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Forming a Society, 


Page 34. 







THE 


BOYS OF RIVERTON. 



• EMILY GILMORE. 


God’s seed shall come to God’s harvest.” 


PHILADELPHIA : 


„DEC 6 1887 ^ ' 

Z2.0'^> 


PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION 
AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK, 

1334 CHESTNUT STREET. 


\ 

\ 


V 



A 




A 



COPYRIGHT, 1887, BY 

THE TRUSTEES OF THE 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. 


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

iz- 2)ZSh- 


Westcott & Thomson, 
Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada. 


TO 


HER BELOVED MOTHER 

THIS BOOK 


IS 

^oflt §tffcctiotxat£lg ^tiscribeb, 


BY 


THE AUTHOR 





CONTENTS 


Mildred’s Plan . 

CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 


CHAPTER II. 


A Promising Beginning 25 


The Reading-Room 

CHAPTER HI. 

The Opening . . . 

CHAPTER IV. 

56 

Dick 

CHAPTER V. 

Mildred’s Patient . 

CHAPTER VI. 

86 

5 


6 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER VII. 

PAGE 

Frank’s Letter 99 

CHAPTER VHI. 

A Disappointment 112 

/ 

CHAPTER IX. 

Frank’s Trial 124 

CHAPTER X. 

Fred’s Confession .’ 138 

CHAPTER XI. 

Harvest-Time 149 

CHAPTER XII. 

An Answered Prayer 164 

CHAPTER XHI. 

Matt 177 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Ingathering 192 

CHAPTER XV. 


Frank’s Departure 


202 


CONTENTS, 


7 


CHAPTER XVI. 

PAGE 

New Work 209 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Polly 226 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Canal-Life 236 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Frank’s Progress 248 

CHAPTER XX. 

The Harvest Garnered 258 



THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


CHAPTER I. 

MILDRED^ S PLAN. 

I T was drawing near the close of the 
short winter afternoon, and, although 
it was scarcely four o’clock, the twilight 
was already beginning to gather. The 
streets of the little country town were 
nearly deserted, for the snow which had 
been falling steadily all day had turned 
to sleet, and but few cared to defy the in- 
clemency of the weather. The wind which 
swept around the corners and through the 
alleys drove the sleet furiously before it, 
and the coating of ice on the sidewalks 
made walking a very uncertain and pre- 
carious proceeding. 


10 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


Mildred Lyte stood irresolutely by her 
window for some time before she resolved 
to venture out in the storm. She had 
promised to visit a sick child that after- 
noon, and she knew that notwithstanding 
the storm the little one would expect her, 
and be sorely disappointed if the after- 
noon wore away without her promised 
visit; still, her low rocking-chair by the 
bright open grate looked very inviting 
and her fingers just tingled to begin a 
fascinating bit of fancy-work. ’ 

Duty triumphed over inclination at the 
thought of the child’s disappointment, and 
wrapping herself up warmly, Mildred start- 
ed out, shivering for a moment at the 
change from the warm sitting-room to 
the driving sleet. 

She did not regret her little self-sacrifice, 
however, when she found that the child had 
been anxiously expecting her, notwithstand- 
ing the assurances of mother and sister 
that “ it was too stormy for Mrs. Lyte to 


MILDRED PLAN. 


1 1 

go out and the look of delight that 
overspread the pale little face and the 
flash of joy in the sunken eyes made her 
regret her momentary indecision. 

Mildred had an errand at the stationer's, 
and, as it would add but a short distance 
to her walk, she resolved to accomplish it 
before she returned home. The wind 
swept down the main street so vigorously 
that it was out of the question to raise an 
umbrella, and it was all that Mildred could 
do to keep her footing on the icy pave- 
ment. 

A door opened a little farther down the 
street, and some well-grown boys came 
out laughing and talking loudly. One of 
their number staggered slightly as he came 
out, and as soon as his feet touched the 
sleety sidewalk he slipped and fell pros- 
trate. A loud burst of laughter from his 
comrades greeted his mishap, and as he 
tried in vain for a few moments to regain 
his feet the merriment was redoubled. 


12 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


“ Give US a hand,” he said at last ; and 
as Mildred passed the group at that instant 
she saw that the boy’s face was flushed and 
his gait unsteady, even after he had been 
helped to his feet. She scarcely wondered 
at it as she glanced at the house from which 
he had emerged, and caught a glimpse 
through the open door of the crowd of 
men and boys who were gathered about 
the pool-tables whiling away the stormy 
afternoon by playing and drinking. Every 
one knew what a fruitful source of tempta- 
tion that pool-room was to all the boys and 
young men of Riverton who had not suf- 
ficient pride and self-respect to keep them 
from mingling with the low crowd that usu- 
ally frequented it. 

It was not an inviting place and tempta- 
tion was not by any means arrayed in 
glittering fascinations, yet it never lacked 
patrons. It was as dirty and ill-kept as 
its proprietor, but, somehow, it was the 
favorite resort of a certain class of boys 


MILDRED’S ELAN. 


13 


and young men, and they drank the vile 
stuff which by courtesy was called whisky 
merely, and wrangled over the pool-tables 
as if they enjoyed themselves amazingly. 
Possibly they did, having never tried any 
other variety of amusement. 

Mildred shuddered with disgust as a 
volley of oaths poured through the open 
door, coming from the lips of a lad who 
had evidently had ill-luck in his game. 
Was there any hope for these boys ex- 
posed to such evil influences? she won- 
dered as she passed on out of earshot of 
the stream of profanity. 

Mr. Estabrook, the stationer, was un- 
packing a box of books, and as Mildred’s 
purchases were being wrapped up she 
glanced at the titles of some of the 
volumes. 

Perhaps her face showed the surprise she 
felt as she found quite an assortment of 
sensational dime-novels among more re- 
spectable companions. 


14 


THE BOYS OF FIVE ETON. 


“ I don’t deal in that style of literature 
as a general thing, Mrs. Lyte,” explained 
Mr. Estabrook, “but, you see, some of 
these boys here are bound to have them, 
and if I don’t get them some one else 
will.” 

Mr. Estabrook realized that a great deal 
might be said in answer to the apology he 
had made for offering these books for sale. 
He was fully conscious himself of the in- 
jury such publications might work. It was 
evidently a relief to him when at this point 
his presence was demanded at the back 
part of the store, and his clerk had to take 
his place in waiting on Mrs. Lyte. 

A very thoughtful look was on Mildred’s 
face as she slowly wended her way home- 
ward, so preoccupied with her reflections 
that she did not heed the driving storm. 

Riverton had been her home now for 
three years. She had been fully aware of 
the existence of the pool-room and its per- 
nicious influence over the boys, yet until 


MILDRED’S PLAN. 


15 

this afternoon it had never occurred to 
her that she had any personal interest in 
the matter. 

Mildred had mourned over the down- 
ward path which so many of the boys 
were treading, she had often wished that 
somebody would try to save them and 
help them, but it had never seemed as 
if there were anything for her to do. Now 
she had a sense of personal responsibility 
toward them, and, although it seemed a 
wellnigh hopeless task to influence these 
boys, she resolved to make the attempt. 
How to go about this new work was the 
question, and it was a problem that was 
not easy of solution. 

There were many difflculties in the way. 
In the first place, how could Mildred be- 
come acquainted with the boys, and then 
what attractions could she offer that would 
offset the fascinations of the pool-room ? 

Yet what other resort was open to the 
boys ? It by no means proved that they 


1 6 THE BOYS OF RIVERl'ON. 

would be insensible to better pleasures 
because they were satisfied with the only 
amusement they knew anything about. 
They had miserable homes, with nothing 
to make them attractive ; most of them 
had as much evil influence exerted over 
them at home as among strangers at the 
pool-room ; and when no other reading 
was put in their hands what better could 
be expected than that sensational litera- 
ture would charm them into poring over 
its pages? 

Mildred was blessed with an enthusias- 
tic, sanguine temperament, and, although 
she could not ignore the many and great 
difficulties which lay in her path, yet some- 
how she felt assurance of success in the 
end. 

Before she entered her own door her 
fertile imagination had suggested a plan 
which seemed feasible, and she was im- 
patient to begin to carry it out. 

Seated at the cozy little tea-table that 


MILDRED^ S PLAN. 


17 


evening, she confided her new purpose to 
her husband. 

“ It is a work that certainly ought to be 
done,” he said, “ but, my dear Mildred, you 
must take into consideration that you have 
almost everything against you. The boys’ 
home-associations, the evil habits that have 
become second nature with them, their utter 
disregard of public opinion and their lack of 
ambition make them very unpromising ma- 
terial, and I am afraid that your efforts will 
all be thrown away. They are the most 
unapproachable of mortals, and I think if 
there is anything or anybody that they 
stand in awe of, it is a minister. I have 
tried again and again to get them to come 
to church, without the least success, as you 
know, and now they vanish as soon as they 
see me coming. Don’t you suppose the 
minister’s wife will be equally awe-inspir- 
ing?” 

Mildred smiled. 

“ That remains to be seen,” she answered. 


8 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON, 


Of course^I admit that disastrous failure is 
one of the possibilities of this work, but I 
don’t expect it. My first step will be to get 
acquainted with the boys, and, as I cannot 
very well spend an evening in the pool- 
room with them, I shall invite them all up 
here to spend the evening with me ; and, 
furthermore, as you are so terrible an ob- 
ject to them, I shall invite you to spend 
the evening in your study.” 

“Very well, my dear,” answered her hus- 
band as he passed his cup to be refilled. “ I 
meekly submit to banishment, since it is 
your sovereign will, but I hope you will 
allow me to come to your assistance if any 
trouble arises and your guests become un- 
ruly ?” 

“ Nothing of that kind will occur,” an- 
swered Mildred. “ Practically, I must sadly 
confess that I don’t know anything about 
boys, for I never had any brothers or 
cousins ; but theoretically I believe that 
there is a latent instinct of gallantry in 


MILDRED'S PLAN. 


19 


even the roughest of boys that will re- 
spond to courteous treatment.” 

“ I hope your practical experience will 
not shake your^theory,” replied Mr. Lyte. 
“ But I don’t want to throw cold water upon 
your enthusiasm, I am sure if any one can 
do anything with those boys, you will, and 
I will help you in any way I can, though I 
really think it will be advisable for me, for 
a time at least, to keep in the background 
lest I should frighten them away.” . 

“I shall depend upon my ‘silent partner’ 
for a great deal of advice and help,” an- 
swered Mildred, “and I mean to succeed if 
love for those boys and an earnest desire 
to save them will bring success and her 
face glowed with earnestness as she spoke. 
“It seems as if my eyes had just been 
opened to the fact that those boys have 
never had any chance to be anything better 
than they are, and while everybody is will- 
ing to condemn them, no one has tried to 
help them. In a very few years they will 


20 


THE BOYS OF AV FEB TOM 


be men, and upon the use they make of 
these years will rest their power for good 
and for evil in this town. I wish I had set 
about helping them sooner, but as I have 
let so much time slip away unimproved, I 
must make up for it now by increased en- 
ergy.” 

As soon as the tea-table was cleared 
Mildred opened her desk and began to 
write dainty notes of invitation to the boys, 
wording them as carefully as if she had 
been sending them to her most valued 
friends. She procured a list of the boys 
the next day, and went over it carefully to 
be sure that she had not omitted any whom 
she had intended to invite. 

The post-office was a lounging-place for 
the boys for an hour or two every evening, 
and, although the receipt of a letter ad- 
dressed to any of them was an event of the 
rarest occurrence, still they made a practice 
of asking in turn at the little window with 
an air of expectation. 


MILDRED'S PLAN. 


21 


They were thoroughly surprised when 
each one of them received a letter ad- 
dressed in a lady’s handwriting. They 
suspected a hoax, and no one liked to be 
the first to lay himself open to his compan- 
ions’ ridicule by opening his envelope and 
seeing what the contents were. They thrust 
the letters unopened into their pockets and 
strolled down the street, feeling consider- 
able curiosity which they were not willing 
to express in word or act. 

At last one of the youngest of the party 
could no longer restrain his desire to know 
the contents of his letter. 

“I say, you fellows!” he exclaimed,.^ ain’t 
you going to look at your letters and see 
what’s in them, any way? I’m going to 
look at mine.” 

“Let’s see what’s in yours, and then I’ll 
open mine,” answered one of the others, 
eagerly grasping at this chance to satisfy 
his own curiosity without being the first to 
yield to it. 


22 


THE BOYS OF B TVER TON. 


They paused by the pool-room window, 
and by the light of the smoky lamps in the 
window Jimmy Moore tore open his enve- 
lope and drew out a note. Deciphering 
writing with ease and facility was somewhat 
beyond Jimmy’s powers, and, putting the 
note in Dick Nelson’s hand, he said, 

“ Read it out loud, Dick, and then we’ll 
all know what it is.” 

Dick uttered an exclamation of surprise 
as he glanced over the note and saw the 
graceful signature at the close. 

o o 

“Whew!” he whistled. “This beats 
everything I ever heard tell of! Why, 
Jimmy, this is an invitation to spend the 
evening, and guess who it’s from ?” 

“Who?” asked Jimmy, breathless with 
interest. 

“ The minister’s wife !” 

If he had said the President of the 
United States instead, greater astonish- 
ment could scarcely have been depicted 
in the faces around him. 


MILDRED'S PLAN. 


23 


“ That’s what all our notes are, I s’pose,” 
said another, opening his own as he spoke. 

They had each received an invitation. 
Now, the next question was. What was 
to be done about it? 

“ Wonder what she’s going to do to us ?” 
queried Jimmy in a rather awestruck tone. 

“ I’m sure I don’t see what she wants of 
us,” said Dick Nelson, turning the letter 
over and over as if he expected somewhere 
to find the hidden motives which prompted 
Mrs. Lyte’s invitation. 

‘^It’s the first time I ever heard anything 
about ‘ the pleasure of my company.’ Most 
folks seem to prefer a scarcity of it, and I 
reckon she would too if she only knew me 
better.” 

“ The question is. What are we going to 
do?” put in Fred Norris. “Shall we go? 
or sha’n’t we go ? Maybe she just wants 
to get us there, so the minister can get a 
good chance to preach at us. He can’t 
make us come to church, but he thinks he 


24 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


can get us there to his house, and so he got 
her to invite us.” 

Several of the boys coincided in this 
opinion, and agreed that it would be better 
not to go: but Dick argued differently: 

“ I don’t believe that’s what they mean to 
do, for he couldn’t make us stay there if 
we didn’t want to after he got us there. 
Let’s go and see, anyhow. We’ll all go 
together, and if we don’t like things we 
will just up and leave.” 

After a good deal of discussion the other 
boys agreed to this decision, and they re- 
solved to meet the following evening at 
half-past seven and go in a body to Mrs. 
Lyte’s, that they might have the benefit of 
each other’s protection. 

After this decision had been reached 
they adjourned to the pool-room, where 
the remainder of the evening soon wore 
away. 


CHAPTER II. 


A PROMISING BEGINNING. 

HE next day Mildred spent a busy 



X morning in the kitchen. She had 
fully determined that if it were possible the 
boys should enjoy their evening, and she 
was sure that an abundance of good things 
would add very much to their enjoyment. 

When Mildred completed her task the 
sideboard was loaded with a tempting 
array of cakes, and she smiled approvingly 
at them as she put the finishing touches on 
the largest one, which looked with its drifts 
of cocoanut as if it had been out in a snow- 
storm. 

“ Will they come 

That was the question that recurred to 
her again and again that day, and, though 
she resolutely answered it in the affirma- 


25 


26 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


tive each time, yet a little undercurrent of 
doubt troubled her. 

Suppose, notwithstanding her sanguine ex- 
pectations of success, all her hopes and plans 
should be defeated by her inability to reach 
the boys? The bright look faded out of 
her face as she thought what a keen disap- 
pointment it would be to her if, after all her 
preparations, her expected guests should 
not appear. 

Then another thought came to comfort 
her. She was trying to do this work for 
the Master, to win these neglected souls 
for him, and she had asked him to direct 
her in this undertaking. Could she not 
trust that she would be led in the right 
path, and that he would guide her in the 
way in which he would have her walk? 

At last all was ready for her expected 
guests. The parlor was brightly lighted, 
the piano opened, and, though Mildred had 
debated with herself whether it would not 
be advisable to put away the dainty bits of 


A PROMISING BEGINNING. 2 / 

bric-a-brac lest some accident should hap- 
pen to them, she had resolved to leave 
them all in their places, that the room 
might be as inviting as possible. 

Mildred that evening spent more time 
before her mirror than usual, and cast an 
anxious glance at the reflection it gave her 
after her toilet was complete. So much de- 
pended upon this evening’s work ! If she 
succeeded in gaining the friendship of the 
boys, she could do so much with them, and 
if she failed it meant the failure of all her 
plans for them. 

The hands of the clock pointed to half- 
past seven and they had not come. Mil- 
dred opened the hall-door and listened for 
a moment. Perhaps she could hear their 
footsteps in the distance on the crisp snow. 
All was silence, and she went back into the 
parlor wondering whether she was really to 
be doomed to disappointment. 

She ran her finger over the keys of the 
piano for a few moments, listening all the 


28 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

time for some sound that should apprise 
her of the arrival of her guests ; then her 
quick ears caught a noise that banished 
all disappointment. They Avere surely com- 
ing, for she heard a heavy trampling before 
the house ; then the gate clicked as it ^vas 
pushed open, and the door-bell pealed 
loudly through the house. 

If the boys were astonished at their in- 
vitation, they were still more amazed at the 
cordial welcome they received from their 
hostess. 

“ I reckon she’d have been disappointed 
if we hadn’t come,” whispered Jimmy as he 
saw the bright smile that greeted them and 
felt the warm clasp of the hand that he as 
well as the others received. 

Mildred helped them off with their over- 
coats and mufflers, and, though the odor of 
stale tobacco from the accumulated gar- 
ments was overpowering, she did not heed 
it in her delight that her guests had really 
come. 


A PROMISING BEGINNING. 29 

** There’s four more coming, Mrs. Lyte,” 
said Dick as they filed into the parlor and 
shyly seated themselves in attitudes of un- 
comfortable stiffness. “They weren’t quite 
ready, so we thought we’d come on without 
waiting for them. I think I hear them com- 
ing now.” 

Mildred went to the hall-door to receive 
them, considerately closing the parlor door 
behind her, that the boys might have an 
opportunity to exchange remarks freely and 
wear off a little of their unwonted shyness. 

She ushered the new-comers into the 
parlor ; then, excusing herself for a mo- 
ment, ran lightly up stairs to tell her hus- 
band the good news that, so far at least, 
she was successful : her guests had come. 

“ But, Horace,” she confessed, “ do you 
know, I am suddenly seized with a fit of 
timidity. There seem to be so many of 
them that I just dread going down into the 
parlor again and beginning to entertain 
them. I have a proposition to make to 


30 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


them later in the evening, but I want to be 
sociable and get real well acquainted first, 
so that they will be inclined to regard it 
favorably. I wanted them all to come, 
and it is so foolish to be afraid of them, 
but I am.” 

“ I presume the boys are frightened too,” 
answered Mr. Lyte, smiling at the flushed 
cheeks which betrayed his wife’s nervous- 
ness. “ Now, I am not at all afflicted with 
shyness, but I can’t help you any, for I am 
sure the boys would leave with one accord 
if I ventured down. It is your work, little 
woman ; so keep up a brave heart, and go 
down and charm these boys into being 
your willing subjects.” 

Very, very slowly Mildred went down 
stairs, her heart sinking lower with every 
step. How could she get them to forget 
their shyness and enjoy themselves ? She 
dreaded opening the door and facing that 
roomful of boys with the consciousness 
that she had invited them there and was 


A PROMISING BEGINNING. 


31 


responsible for their entertainment, yet 
she must do it, and that soon. 

Perhaps this may not appear as much of 
an ordeal to any one else as it did to Mil- 
dred, for she was naturally timid, and it al- 
ways required a great effort to put herself 
forward and take a prominent part in any 
undertaking, though she was ready to fol- 
low another’s lead in any good work. 

She was unused to boys, too, and did not 
know just how to entertain them, and for a 
few moments she felt that she had under- 
taken more than she could accomplish. 
Her own strength had failed her here at 
the outset, and the consciousness of her 
weakness sent her to her heavenly Father 
for help. A very earnest little prayer that 
God would give her strength and wisdom 
rose up swift-winged from the depths of 
her heart as she stood there ; then, con- 
quering her timid reluctance, she resolved 
to delay her entrance into the parlor no 
longer. 


32 


THE BOYS OF RIVEBTON. 


As she passed the hall-door a scratching 
and subdued whining attracted her atten- 
tion, and her face lighted up as she heard 
the sound. Here was one point of sym- 
pathy, for all the boys she had ever heard 
of were interested in dogs, and perhaps 
Fido would be a valuable aid to her in 
engaging the boys in conversation. 

As she opened the door the subdued 
hum of conversation suddenly ceased, the 
boys sat upright again, very red in the 
face and uncomfortably conscious of the 
presence of unusual wearing-apparel in 
the way of collars and neckties ; and Mil- 
dred’s courage revived as she saw how 
embarrassed her guests were. 

A look of animated interest brightened 
up the stolid faces as Fido frisked in and ran 
from one to another, answering their calls, 
and finally attaching himself to Jimmy, with 
whom he had already a slight acquaintance. 

By the time that the fortunate owners of 
canine pets had announced that fact, with 


A PROMISING BEGINNING. 


33 


anecdotes of their sagacity, and the less 
fortunate boys had lamented that they 
hadn’t any, a plan had occurred to Mil- 
dred which would probably establish as a 
settled fact the social feeling which was 
gradually asserting itself. She brought 
out a collection of photographs for the 
boys’ inspection, and they gathered in an 
interested group about her while she de- 
scribed many of the places which she had 
herself visited and called their attention 
to the beauties of the views. 

Long before the last photograph had 
been inspected all the stiffness and awk- 
wardness that had marked the beginning 
of the evening had worn away, and Mil- 
dred drew a long breath of relief as she 
realized that the evening was happily be- 
gun. She wanted to propose part of her 
plan to the boys, and how she did wish that 
she had a faculty for making speeches and 
could be sure of interesting her little au- 
dience ! The hum of conversation paused 

3 


34 


THE BOYS OF FIFE ETON. 


for an instant, and, taking advantage of 
this, she began bravely : 

“I am so glad you all came to-night, 
boys, for I have a plan to propose to you 
that I think and hope you will like.” 

Mildred smiled brightly at the wonder- 
ing faces, and if there was an added flush 
on her cheeks and a little tremor in her 
voice, none of the boys noticed it. 

“ How would you like to form yourselves 
into a society to meet here one evening in 
the week? There are enough of you to 
make a very pleasant society. You could 
elect your officers and conduct it entirely 
yourselves. We might call it a literary 
society, and have questions to debate upon 
and readings and recitations, and music oc- 
casionally. What do you think about it?” 

As Mildred paused for a response she 
felt that she had not urged her plan half as 
eloquently as she had intended to do, but 
her simple words had interested the boys 
quite as much as a more elaborate explana- 


A PROMISING BEGINNING. 33 

tion would have done. Their faces lighted 
up with unmistakable pleasure, and there 
was an enthusiastic chorus of assent. 

Mildred felt as if success were assured 
now, as the boys eagerly discussed the 
society and asked innumerable questions 
about it. 

She brought out slips of paper and pen- 
cils, which she had in readiness, and the 
boys voted for the officers of their new 
society with much deliberation. They 
elected a president, vice-president, secre- 
tary and treasurer, and decided upon the 
evening for regular meetings, while Mil- 
dred quietly watched them, trying to learn 
their names and somewhat of their dispo- 
sitions. 

She felt as if she had very promising 
material to work with as she quietly noted 
the attempts at neatness that had been 
made and their efforts to be polite. None 
of the boys had thoroughly bad faces, for 
sin had not yet indelibly stamped its im- 


36 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

press on them, and just now, bright as they 
were with pleasure and interest, they were 
an intelligent-looking set of boys that did 
not seem at all like the wellnigh hopeless 
cases that the factory-hands had always 
been considered. 

After they had finished discussing the 
society Mildred led them into the dining- 
room to enjoy the cake and coffee she had 
in readiness for them. She had never had 
more appreciative guests, and the cake 
soon disappeared before the crowd of 
boys, whose capacity seemed unlimited. 

They gathered about the piano after- 
ward, and listened with evident pleasure 
to a few lively marches, and when Fred 
Norris, noticing that the hands of the little 
clock on the mantel pointed to ten, made a 
motion to leave, his example was followed 
with regret by the others, who had found 
the pleasant evening all too short. 

“WeVe had an awful good time, Mrs. 
Lyte,’' said Jimmy as one after another 


A PROMISING BEGINNING. 37 

shook hands with her and wished her 
good-night ; and, not to be outdone by 
the little fellow in politeness, each boy 
expressed his appreciation of the even- 
ing, some shyly and others with out- 
spoken frankness. 

“Well, what success?” asked Mr. Lyte, 
reading the answer in his wife’s bright 
face as she came up stairs a,fter the last 
boy had taken his departure. 

“ I am over-sanguine perhaps,” she an- 
swered, “ but it does seem to me now as if 
my plan would succeed perfectly, and I be- 
lieve, with God’s blessing on my efforts, 
that every one of those boys can be saved. 
They have never had a chance to be any- 
thing better, but I believe if the good is 
made as attractive to them as the evil has 
been, they will choose it. I mean to give 
them an opportunity, at any rate.” 

“What name has the society adopted? 
or haven’t the boys taken that into con- 
sideration yet?” 


38 THE BOYS OF FI FEB TON. 

“That was one of the first things they 
thought of after they had elected their 
officers,” answered Mildred. “ I asked 
the boys what kind of a name they would 
prefer, and the only idea they had on the 
subject was that it should be a ‘big’ name 
that meant something. I suggested to them 
that they should call it the ‘ Excelsior Liter- 
ary Society,’ and explained to them what 
‘ Excelsior ’ meant. One of the boys said 
it would be a good name to live up to, and 
the boys generally seemed to. be of his 
opinion. Now, by their next meeting I 
hope I shall see my way clear to propose 
the rest of my plan to them. I am sure 
that the street-corner and the pool room 
had no attraction for the boys this even- 
ing, and if I can succeed in fitting up in 
an unpretentious way a pleasant room 
with books, magazines and a few inno- 
cent games, I think it will keep them en- 
tirely out of mischief. I am afraid it will 
seem like an Utopian scheme to most of 


A PROMISING BEGINNING. 39 

the people here, but these boys must have 
a chance. I am determined upon that.” 

“ The boys have a champion now who 
will valiantly maintain their cause,” said 
Mr. Lyte. “ How I did wish I was a boy 
this evening! It was a source of deep- 
est regret to me that boyhood’s hours 
had flown for ever.” 

“ Why ?” asked Mildred, laughing at her 
husband’s deep sigh and air of affected 
despair. 

“ I heard a sound of dishes rattling, and 
I knew that all that cake was vanishing, 
and because I wasn’t a boy I had to sit up 
here and lose my share of the good things. 
I don’t suppose they left a crumb, did 
they?” he asked plaintively. 

“ No, but I saved some for you, and put 
it away before they began,” laughed Mil- 
dred. “You shall have your cake and cof- 
fee now, as soon as I have cleared away the 
chaos of cups and plates that at present pre- 
vails in the dining-room; and while you are 


40 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


eating it I will give you a full and accurate 
description of the proceedings this even- 
ing.” 

In a short time her quick movements 
had restored prder, and while her husband 
was discussing the cake, with scarcely less 
relish than the boys, Mildred gave him a 
detailed account of the evening. 


\ 

\ 

V, 

CHAPTER III. 

THE READING-ROOM. 


M ILDRED’S next undertaking was to 
search for a room that would be 
fitted for her project. In this she succeed- 
ed better than she had anticipated. She 
found a large room that had been used 
for a school, with windows enough to af- 
ford ample light and ventilation, and with 
, a door opening on the street, so that the 
boys could go in and out without disturb- 
ing any of the other inmates of the house. 
It was in a quiet part of the town, and the 
boys would not be apt to meet any tempta- 
‘ tion on their way to and from the room. 

These were its advantages, but as Mil- 
dred opened the shutters and glanced 
around the room she was forced to admit 
; that much had to be done before it could 


41 


42 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

be made to assume an inviting appearance. 
The floor was stained and wormeaten, the 
walls were defaced by pencil-marks and 
unsightly blotches, and the ceiling, if it 
had ever been white, had long since lost 
all traces of its pristine purity. 

Discouraging as was the present appear- 
ance of the room, these were all defects that 
could be remedied. The ceiling could be im- 
proved by a fresh coat of kalsomine ; bright, 
pretty paper would beautify the walls ; a 
little paint would cover the marks and 
scratches on the woodwork around the 
doors and windows ; and as to the floor, 
carpet or matting would hide its deficien- 
cies. 

Before she closed the shutters aeain 
Mildred had planned to make this room 
a very pleasant one, cheerless and unin- 
viting as it was just now. 

The rent was low, which was another 
advantage, and Mildred resolved to pay 
it herself the first year, that all other con- 


THE READING-ROOM. 


43 


tributions might go toward books and 
magazines and the many things that were 
required for fitting up the room. She grew 
enthusiastic over it, and felt as if she could 
scarcely wait an hour before beginning to 
get to work. 

There was a very important considera- 
tion that must first be attended to before 
anything else could be done, and this part 
of the work was not very inviting. Money 
must be had, and it must be given by those 
interested in the work ; and how could she 
arouse this interest except by personal 
solicitation ? 

Begging is never pleasant, although it is 
oftentimes very necessary work, and Mil- 
dred shrank from it. She had never done 
it, and it seemed to her as if she never 
could ; yet for the sake of the boys it would 
have to be done. Surely no one could 
refuse when she showed how great was 
the necessity of doing something for these 
boys, who would so soon enter manhood 


44 


THE BOYS OF El FEE TOM 


and have a strong influence either for good 
or for evil. 

Although she did not anticipate anything 
but a generous response to her appeals, still 
she shrank from beginning her task. A 
little subscription-book was headed with a 
generous contribution by Mr. Lyte, and 
followed by her own, so the page was not 
entirely blank when she started out with 
an anxious heart, but a brave face. 

To whom should she go first ? She re- 
membered having heard a gentleman who 
had called some weeks before lament over 
the hopeless condition of the boys and the 
future state of the town when these boys 
should be old enough to share in its gov- 
ernment, and she resolved to go first to 
him, for she felt assured of his sympathy 
and co-operation. Though not wealthy, he 
was fairly well off, and Mildred congratu- 
lated herself upon the prospect of receiv- 
ing a generous gift. 

She was fortunate enough to meet him 


THE READING-ROOM. 


45 


a few moments later, just as she had begun 
to debate with herself whether it would be 
better to go to his office or see him at his 
home after business hours. 

He greeted her cordially, and, detaining 
him as he would have passed on, Mildred 
timidly made known her request and ex- 
tended to him the subscription-book. To 
her surprise he hesitated a moment, then 
took the book and glanced at the first page 
to see what subscriptions had already been 
promised. 

“You ought to go to some of our rich 
men and talk to them about this, Mrs. 
Lyte,” he said, handing her back the book. 
“You are very kind, I am sure, to take so 
much interest in these boys — an abandoned 
set they certainly are — and I hope you’ll be 
able to do something with them. I don’t 
feel as if I had any money to spare just 
now for that purpose, but I don’t doubt 
you’ll be able to do pretty well. You 
have my best wishes for your success. 


46 THE BOYS OF FIVER TON. 

Good-afternoon and he raised his hat 
and went on. 

Poor Mildred ! This refusal where she 
had so confidently expected assistance in 
more ways than one was doubly hard to 
bear. Her cheeks grew scarlet and her 
eyes filled with tears, in spite of all efforts 
at self-control, as she walked rapidly to- 
ward home. This was her first rebuff, and 
she had not yet learned that she must ex- 
pect many such discouragements and dis- 
appointments. It had been so hard to ask, 
and then to be refused filled her with a sense 
of humiliation. 

“ He seemed to be so sorry for the boys 
that night he talked about them, and yet 
he doesn’t care enough about them to help 
give them a chance to do better,” she re- 
flected as she hid the little book, which re- 
minded her of her failure, in the depths of 
her muff 

Mildred could not ask any one else ; one 
refusal was enough to bear, yet she must 


THE READING-ROOM. 


47 


give up the whole project if she gave up 
collecting enough funds to put it into exe- 
cution. This latter thought checked her 
homeward steps. Was she willing to give 
up all hopes of saving the boys because 
the self-sacrifice was too great? 

No ; the duty was too plainly before her 
for her conscience to allow her to leave it 
undone. She resolved to make another 
effort, and perhaps she would meet with 
more encouragement. Mildred was just 
opposite Mrs. Lewis’s pretty cottage, and 
she resolved to go over there and try to 
interest that lady. 

As soon as she mentioned the boys Mrs. 
Lewis exclaimed. 

I don’t believe any other little country 
town ever had a set of boys equal to ours. 
Why, they’re perfectly dreadful !” and Mrs. 
Lewis rocked backward and forward with 
indignant energy as she spoke. “ It’s a 
good thing most of them have to work 
hard all day in the factory, for that keeps 


48 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

them out of mischief; but as soon as even- 
ing comes there they are, on the corners 
or in the post-office, smoking like a set of 
chimneys, with their hands in their pockets. 
That isn’t the worst, either, for they go to 
that pool-room, and drink wretched whisky 
and play pool till they have spent their last 
cent. I’ve often seen those boys actually 
drunk ! It’s a disgrace to the town that 
something isn’t done to put a stop to it, 
but nobody cares enough about it to in- 
terfere. Then their home-influences are 
so bad ! It seems a hard thing to say, 
Mrs. Lyte, but I do believe most of those 
boys are better off on the street than they 
would be at home. Look at Dick Nelson, 
for example. He has a wretched home, 
for his parents are dead and he lives with 
his grandfather and grandmother. The 
old man is a quiet enough sort of fellow, 
but I do think that, without any exception, 
his grandmother is the worst woman in 
town — quarrelsome, bad-tempered and as 


THE READING-ROOM. 


49 


slovenly and dirty as she can be. She 
drinks too, and many a time I’ve seen 
poor Dick helping her home when she 
couldn’t stand alone. He couldn’t be in 
a worse place than at home, for she isn’t 
satisfied to drink herself, but she’s always 
getting him to do the same thing. Now, 
what chance has that boy to amount to 
anything ?” 

“ Don’t you think all those boys ought 
to have a fair opportunity to choose be- 
tween good and evil ?” asked Mildred. 

“ I certainly do, but how is it to be ac- 
complished ?” asked Mrs. Lewis. 

Mildred explained her plan, and Mrs. 
Lewis seemed to enter into it with in- 
terest. 

“ It’s a splendid idea, Mrs. Lyte,” she 
exclaimed enthusiastically as Mildred con- 
cluded, “and it would be just the making 
of those boys if it could be carried out; 
but I know you can’t make it succeed. 
Nothing of that kind ever would succeed 


50 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


here, I know. It might do for a week or 
two, but then the boys would all be back 
again on the corners and in the pool-room. 
There isn’t any use in trying, now take my 
word for it, Mrs. Lyte ; for I have lived 
here all my life, and know more than you 
do about this place. I don’t mean to dis- 
courage you, but — ” 

“You are not discouraging me at all,” 
answered Mildred as she suddenly deter- 
mined that she would not give up her 
project if every one in town urged her 
to. “ I mean to give these boys a chance 
if I possibly can, and I want you to help 
me in the work;” and she drew out her 
subscription-book. 

“Well, maybe you will succeed, since 
you seem so determined about it,” an- 
swered Mrs. Lewis. “Tell me about the 
room again, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

In spite of her prognostications of fail- 
ure, Mrs. Lewis became sufficiently inter- 
ested to put down her name for five dol- 


THE READING-ROOM. 


51 


lars, and promised, besides, to furnish paper 
for the walls. Before Mildred reached the 
gate she came after her to say, 

“ Now, you will have enough on your 
hands without getting that paper put on, 
so ril have it done myself, and while I’m 
about it I’ll have the ceiling kalsomined, 
so you needn’t think any more about that, 
either.” 

This was doing far better than Mildred 
had anticipated after her first rebuff, and 
her spirits and hopes had risen consider- 
ably before she preferred her next re- 
quest for assistance. 

It was astonishing to note with what 
unanimity the townspeople had come to 
the conclusion that the boys were past 
saving and that any effort to reclaim 
them was useless. Any one less deter- 
mined than Mildred now was might have 
lost all hope before the repeated prophe- 
cies of utter failure, but it only made her 
more anxious to prove what could be made 


52 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

of the boys if a little care were bestowed 
upon them. 

Before the next meeting of their society 
she had succeeded in collecting money 
enough to get all necessary things for 
the fitting up of the reading-room, and 
when the boys came she proposed the 
plan to them. 

As she had expected, the suggestion 
was received with delighted enthusiasm. 
It seemed almost too good to be true to 
these boys who had never before known 
what it was to have anything done for 
their pleasure or improvement. 

Mildred rented the room and sent the 
key to Mrs. Lewis, that the papering and 
kalsomining might be done before any 
other work was undertaken. 

Mrs. Lewis was thoroughly interested 
now, and she was careful to select bright 
wall-paper that would look well by lamp- 
light and suit boyish tastes, and when the 
unsightly walls were covered and the 


THE READING-ROOM. 53 

smoky ceiling freshly kalsomined the 
room seemed already transformed. 

Then some of the larger boys spent a 
morning there with brushes and paint, 
working under Mildred’s direction, and, 
though they were not skillful artisans, 
yet their work was very satisfactory. 

What was to be done with the floor? 
Carpet was out of the question, and even 
matting would draw too heavily on their 
funds. An inspiration came to Mildred. 

“ Boys,” she exclaimed cheerily as she 
and the boys stood in a disconsolate cir- 
cle viewing the unsightly boards, “ we will 
have an inlaid floor, or at least an imita- 
tion that will answer very well.” 

The boys had not the least idea of her 
meaning, but they looked as if the matter 
had been satisfactorily settled. 

“We will paint the floor,” she explained, 
“and though, of course, it would have been 
very nice to have had carpet, yet a painted 
floor has some advantages. We can keep 


54 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


it clean much more easily, and it will be 
cooler in summer.” 

It was quite a task to paint the floor, but 
it looked very pretty when it was completed 
with its alternate squares of dark red and 
rich brown. 

Cheese-cloth curtains were hung at the 
windows, looped back with bows of scarlet 
ribbon, and at the top of each curtain 
was a graceful lambrequin of flowered 
cretonne. 

The carpenter made a table of plain pine 
long enough to accommodate about twenty 
boys, sloping gently from the top at each 
side, so that it could be used for a writing- 
desk as well as a reading-table. This table 
was sandpapered, and then received two 
coats of black walnut stain, that made it a 
very handsome piece of furniture, consid- 
ering its small cost. 

The chairs and benches that had been 
used in the school-room were purchased 
for a small sum, and a neat little bookcase 


THE READING-ROOM. 


55 


to contain the library was made of pine 
and stained to match the table. 

A corner bracket supported a pretty 
little clock, and another held a vase of 
bright grasses. 

In one corner of the Sunday-school room 
was an old organ that had been unused for 
years, and Mildred readily obtained per- 
mission to have it removed to the readinor- 
room. 

With the money that remained after all 
this had been done she purchased a small 
library of real boys’ books, seventy-five in 
number, and subscribed for four periodicals 
that she knew could not fail to interest the 
boys. Five games completed her purchases, 
and Mildred felt as if she could put all the 
street-corners and pool-rooms in town to 
rout with the attractions of this reading- 


room. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE OPENING. 

M ildred selected the books with the 
greatest care. To take the place of 
the sensational dime-novels they had been 
reading they must be books of absorbing 
interest as well as designed to instruct. 
Books of travel and adventure, and biog- 
raphies of famous men written in a style to 
arouse ambition in a boy, were selected^ 
and a complete set of encyclopaedias were 
added, that the boys might be able to find 
information on any subject. Stories of 
bird and animal life and a few tales of 
school-life made up the number. The 
books were not new. Some were shop- 
worn, and others showed that they had 
been well read, but they were all in good 

condition, and would answer every pur- 
se 


THE OPENING. 


57 


pose as well as if they had been entirely 
new. 

And the boys ? Well, they were just the 
happiest, the most important, set of boys 
the town had ever contained. Every one 
of them, from Dick Nelson the president 
down to little Jimmy, felt the dignity, pres- 
ent and prospective, of “our society.” 

When everything was in order Mildred 
suggested that they should have a formal 
opening, and invite all their friends and all 
who had contributed toward and were in- 
terested in the reading-room. An evening 
was appointed, and invitations were sent 
out — written by Mildred, but signed by the 
secretary of the society. The ministers of 
the different churches in town promised to 
be present and make addresses, and the 
band, which had become interested in this 
new enterprise, offered to furnish music for 
the occasion. 

“ If we could only manage to get badges !” 
said Dick Nelson wistfully. “ But I sup- 


58 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

pose even silver ones would cost such an 
awful lot that we couldn’t get them for 
months yet.” 

‘‘ Perhaps we could get a pretty badge 
that would not cost as much as the silver 
ones,” answered Mildred. “ How would 
you like a badge made of a penny polished 
on one side and the monogram, E. L. S., 
the initials of our society, engraved on it ? 
We might have them mounted as scarf- 
pins. That would not be very expensive, 
and I think they would be even prettier 
than the silver ones.” 

Dick’s face brightened : 

“ That would be the very thing, Mrs. Lyte. 
Suppose I go down to the jeweler’s right 
now and see how much they would cost, 
and whether he could get them done in 
time for us to wear on Thursday night? 
We’d look like so much more of a society 
if we had badges on : they always wear 
them, at least the big ones do.” 

He went to the jeweler’s, and soon came 


THE OPENING. 


59 


back to report that they would be finished 
in time for the opening and would cost 
forty cents each. 

“We can all afford to pay that much,” he 
said. “I guess we spend more than that 
in tobacco every week, and the badges will 
look just as pretty as if they cost far 
more.” 

There was considerable interest taken in 
the reading-room by the townspeople by 
this time, now that they knew that it was 
an accomplished fact, and much curiosity 
was expressed concerning its appearance. 

No one except the boys had seen it since 
it had been papered and painted, and those 
who had been familiar with it in its dilapi- 
dated condition thought that it would be 
impossible to make it an inviting place even 
for the boys, who were not accustomed to 
much of neatness or beauty in their homes. 

An involuntary exclamation of surprise 
burst from many as they entered the room 
on the evening of the opening. 


6o 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


The boys, with faces as bright as their 
new badges, ushered the visitors to seats, 
and the visitors spent the brief time before 
the opening exercises began in looking 
about the room and wondering how it had 
been possible so entirely to transform it. 

The walls were draped with flags, bou- 
quets of flowers graced the reading- table, 
and the boys had good reason for the evi- 
dent pride they felt in their room. 

The place was crowded with visitors 
when the time came for opening the ex- 
ercises of the evening. 

One of the boys made a short address, 
thanking those present for their interest 
and for the contributions to which they 
were indebted for their reading-room, and 
then bright, short addresses from the min- 
isters and some other gentlemen present, 
interspersed with music, completed the pro- 
gramme. 

It was an enjoyable evening for all pres- 
ent, but to the boys particularly it was an 


THE OPENING. 


6l 


evening never to be forgotten. Their self- 
respect and pride had been aroused, and 
for the first time in their lives they began 
to feel an ambition for something higher 
and better than they had known hereto- 
fore. 

For the first time, too, the townspeople 
recognized that these hitherto unnoticed 
factory-boys would in a few years be a 
power either for good or for evil, and that 
it would be well worth their while to help 
and encourage them instead of ignoring 
and condemning them. 

Every evening the reading-room was to 
be open from 'seven to half-past nine. On 
two evenings in the week Mildred wished 
to devote the first half hour to writing-les- 
sons. Upon two other evenings a well- 
known teacher of elocution in the town 
offered to give the boys lessons in elo- 
cution. One evening was to be given up 
to the regular meeting of the society, and 
on Wednesday evening she hoped that they 


62 


THE BOYS OF FIVE ETON. 


might be induced to attend prayer-meeting. 
An hour every evening was to be spent 
in reading, and the last hour was to be 
given up to conversation and games. 

Mildred thought that a more delightful 
and inviting programme could scarcely be 
devised, and she looked eagerly forward 
to putting it into execution. She felt that 
she had accomplished much already in se- 
curing the interest and friendship of the 
boys. 

Although Mildred had known most of 
the boys by sight for some time, she had 
never been on speaking terms with any of 
them ; but now, when she met them, she 
was greeted with a* smile and nod, and one 
boy, more gallant than the others, even 
made an attempt at touching his cap. 

Now, if this story could only be the 
record of a brilliant success, without any 
disappointments or failures, how much 
more satisfactory it woiiJf^^^ be ! But, to 
be a faithful historian, I must chronicle the 


THE OPENING. 63 

clouds that now and then dimmed the 
brightness of the horizon. 

Mildred found that her self-imposed la- 
bor of love demanded many a sacrifice, not 
only on her part, but on her husband’s 
also. For a time, at least, it was necessary 
that the boys should not be left entirely to 
themselves in the evenings, lest they should 
abuse their liberty and bring some of their 
evil associations into the reading-room. 

The boys had not yet recovered from 
their awe of Mr. Lyte, and after some dis- 
cussion it was agreed between husband and 
wife that it would be better for Mildred to 
stay with them during the hours in the 
evening when the room was open, as they 
would be under less restraint with her, and 
yet had too much respect for her to become 
noisy and unruly. 

On the evening when they had voted for 
the officers of their society Mildred had 
discovered that they knew very little about 
writing, and she had, not unnaturally, sup- 


64 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

posed that they would be glad of the chance 
to improve themselves. She procured writ- 
ing-materials and looked forward to the 
first writing-lesson with a good deal of 
pleasure. At the appointed hour she was 
in the room awaiting her pupils, and she 
wondered not a little at their tardiness as 
the hands of the clock moved on to the 
quarter hour without bringing them. Could 
it be possible that they had misunderstood 
her? she wondered; but she knew that 
such could not possibly have been the 
case. When the allotted time expired she 
gathered up the books and pens with a little 
sigh of disappointment and returned them 
to their places. It had not occurred to her 
that perhaps they were satisfied with their 
ignorance and were not anxious to improve 
their minds. 

A little later she heard the sound of foot- 
steps, and the boys came trooping in, look- 
ing a little conscious, as if they expected a 
reproof, as they glanced at the clock to as- 


THE OPENING. 65 

sure themselves tha^it was after the writ- 
ing-hour. 

They selected books, and quietly sat down 
at the table, for one of the rules that they 
had suggested themselves was “ that no 
fellow should talk when the other fellows 
were reading.” The hour seemed very 
long to some of them. After they had 
turned over the leaves and studied the 
numerous illustrations, they cast impatient 
glances at the clock, and one or two audible 
yawns attracted Mildred’s attention. She 
resolved to shorten the time allotted for 
reading, since it was so tedious to the boys, 
and suggested that they should try the new 
games. The boys eagerly assented to this, 
and Mildred joined them, offering to be 
Jimmy’s partner; the magnitude of which 
honor overwhelmed the little fellow with 
rosy-red confusion. 

She wisely resolved not to betray to the 
boys by word or look any disappointment 
that she might feel in their lack of interest 


66 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON, 


in the classes she h^d planned for their 
improvement. 

Mildred was not sorry when the hour for 
closing the reading-room arrived and she 
was set at liberty. 

“ Are you ’fraid to go home by your- 
self?” asked Fred Norris as she locked 
the door and extinguished the lamp. 

“ No, I am not afraid, but I should prefer 
to have you see me safely home, if you 
will,” said Mildred, interpreting his ques- 
tion into an instinct of gallantry. 

“ All right ; I’d just as lief,” answered 
the boy, and, bidding his companions walk 
slowly that he might overtake them, he ac- 
companied her to the gate, and, responding 
to her pleasant “ Good night,” left her. 

It had been no little sacrifice to Mildred 
to give up her evenings, which had hereto- 
fore been the most pleasant part of her time. 
Then sermons and work had been laid 
aside, and husband and wife had enjoyed 
each other’s company as only married 


THE OPENING. 


67 


lovers can — those who carry the affection 
and courtesy which gilded the days of 
courtship into the more prosaic paths of 
married life. They were but rarely in- 
terrupted in these pleasant evening tete- 
a-tetes, and the hours of Mildred’s absence 
had seemed long to both of them. 

As soon as he heard his wife’s light step 
on the porch, Mr. Lyte threw aside the 
book in which he had been vainly trying 
to interest himself and opened the door. 

“What success?” he asked, as through 
the bright smile with which she returned 
his greeting he fancied he could detect 
a shade of disappointment resting on her 
face. 

“I don’t know what to say,” answered 
Mildred as she threw herself wearily into 
the easy-chair her husband placed for her 
beside the glowing grate. “ I suppose that 
I must accept those boys just as they are, 
not as I want them to be,” she went on 
presently. “ After a while I shall be bet- 


68 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


ter acquainted with them and shall know 
them better, but just at present I must con- 
fess that I do not understand them. Now, 
if I were a boy of seventeen or eighteen 
and couldn’t write my own name legibly, I 
am positive that I w^ould very eagerly grasp 
at a chance to improve myself.” 

“ Didn’t the boys come to the writing- 
class in full force ?” asked Mr. Lyte. 

“Not a single one came,” answered Mil- 
dred, “and I had everything so nicely ar- 
ranged for them too. I was sure they 
would all come.” 

“ I had some doubts of it, though I did 
not like to discourage you by expressing 
them,” answered her husband. “You 
mustn’t be too much disappointed, dear, 
if they do not come up to your expecta- 
tions for some time yet. Why, the very 
fact that they cannot write proves that 
they have no desire to learn. There are 
good public schools here, and there is no 
reason, except their own unwillingness and 


THE OPENING. 


69 


lack of ambition, why any of these boys 
should not have good common-school in- 
struction. You will have .to begin at the 
very beginning, and lay the foundation for 
their better education by arousing their am- 
bition and creating in them a desire for 
knowledge. When you have once done 
that the hardest part of your task will 
be accomplished, but in the mean time 
you must not be discouraged nor feel as 
if you were accomplishing nothing. It is 
a great deal to counterbalance the attrac- 
tions of the pool-room, and it would not 
have been strange if you had not even 
done that this evening, for as I passed it 
on my way to the post-office I noticed that 
some champion player was to exhibit his skill 
there, and it must have been quite hard for 
the boys to decide between their new room 
and the champion. That they decided in 
your favor is v^ry encouraging.’' 

“ I am beginning to recover from my dis- 
appointment,” answered Mildred, “but I 


70 


THE BOYS OF BJ FEB TON. 


must confess that for a little while I was 
quite disheartened. After the flourish of 
trumpets with which this enterprise was 
begun I would find it doubly hard to en- 
dure failure. Besides, I am already so 
much interested in the boys as I am be- 
coming better acquainted with them that I 
cannot give up the hope of helping them.” 

“You are helping them,” answered her 
husband, “ even although you do not teach 
them anything. An evening of quiet, in- 
nocent amusement is a rare thing in their 
lives, and they are better for it, as well as 
for the restraint they put upon themselves 
lest language that they would not want you 
to hear should slip from them inadvertently. 
Your sacrifice of this evening will not be 
without its fruits, although you may not 
see them for some time.” 

“ I want to win their friendship and their 
confidence first of all,” said Mildred as she 
watched the glowing embers with thought- 
ful eyes. “ I think they are a little puz- 


THE OPENING. 


71 


zled at my suddenly taking such an interest 
in them, and the older ones are carefully 
watching me to find out what my motive is. 
If it is possible, I hope to avoid everything 
that savors of reproof or suggestion until 
our friendship is firmly established, and then 
they will know that it is because I really 
care for them that I want to help them, and 
they will not resent it, as I am afraid they 
would now.” 

The clock on the mantel chimed ten, and 
Mildred looked up in surprise. 

“ Why, it is ten o’clock already, isn’t it ? 
I hoped we would have time for a little 
reading after I got home, but a game of 
' Authors ’ when none of the players could 
make out the titles of the books correctly 
quite exhausted me, and I feel quite ready 
for bed.” 

Her dreams that night were of the boys, 
as were her last thoughts before she closed 
her eyes. 


CHAPTER V. 


DICK. 


HE one boy over whom Mildred was 



i especially anxious to gain an influence 
persistently defeated her efforts and warded 
off all attempts at closer acquaintance. She 
had heard so much of the peculiar trials and 
temptations of his home-life that she knew 
he needed help more than any of the others 
if he was to rise above the low level of his 
associations. 

He did not rudely repulse her offered 
friendship, but none the less she knew 
that he was keeping her at arm’s length. 
How to win his heart was a problem that 
she could not solve to her satisfaction. 
At last she found a solution. 

One evening she was playing for the 
boys, and when she rose from the organ 


72 


DICK, 


73 


Dick seated himself in her place and 
touched the keys timidly, trying to find the 
ones upon which her fingers had rested in 
the last chord. 

“Are you fond of music, Dick?” asked 
Mildred as a new thought flashed into her 
mind. 

“ Indeed I am,” answered Dick earn- 
estly. 

“ Would you like to know how to play?” 
she queried. 

“ I’d give just anything in the world if I 
could play a tune,” he exclaimed eagerly. 

“ Then you shall learn,” responded Mil- 
dred promptly. “ I will get an instruction- 
book to-morrow — I think I have an old one 
among my other music that will do nicely — 
and you shall begin to-morrow night.” 

“ Do you think I could learn ?” he asked 
wistfully, glancing from his hands to Mil- 
dred’s, and noting the contrast. 

“I am sure you can if you love music 
enough to be willing to take time for prac- 


74 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


ticing. It will take a good deal of patience 
just at first, but you will feel amply repaid 
for your efforts after a while,” answered 
Mildred encouragingly. She determined 
to make his path as easy as possible, and 
to try to smooth away all difficulties, so 
that he would not become discouraged. 

There was nothing in Dick’s face to in- 
dicate his love of music, which really 
amounted almost to a passion with him, 
though he had had but slender chances 
for its gratification. He could whistle 
as sweetly as a blackbird, and every note 
was true, for his ear was unusually cor- 
rect. 

He was an overgrown boy of seventeen, 
with a stolid, almost expressionless face, 
surmounted by a luxuriant crop of red 
hair that had never had any care expended 
upon it. His face was thickly covered with 
freckles that were hardly distinguishable on 
his sunburned skin, and his eyes, almost 
hidden by his overhanging brows, were 


DICK. 


75 


deeply set and of so pale a blue as to be 
almost colorless. It would have been hard 
to find a more unprepossessing face, though 
it was not a vicious one. There was noth- 
ing of intelligence or life in it, and Mildred 
wondered whether it would be possible for 
a ray of intelligence to gleam from the dull 
eyes. 

If the face was the index of Dick’s soul, 
then indeed his soul must be lying dormant, 
without any chord that could be touched to 
give a response. 

Mildred was strangely interested in the 
boy ; perhaps all the more so that her task 
of winning him seemed so hopeless. Her 
desire to save him, to awaken all that was 
good and noble in his nature and call it 
into action, brought into being a yearning 
love for him which only increased in depth 
and earnestness when it was opposed by 
obstacles. She was delighted that she had 
at last found one point of contact between 
his nature, and her own, which at every 


76 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

Other point seemed as dissimilar as it was 
possible for them to be. 

Dick was promptly on hand the following 
evening, and Mildred noticed that he had 
made unusual attempts at cleanliness. His 
hands and face were much improved by 
their unwonted ablution, and his hair was 
neatly plastered down over his forehead. 

He was fairly trembling with eagerness, 
and when the lesson began, and he found 
that so much preliminary instruction had to 
precede the harmony which he had thought 
he could evolve at once from the keys of 
the old organ, his disappointment was evi- 
dent. His brain, naturally slow of action 
and rendered more so by the fact that it 
had but seldom been used, seemed at first 
unable to grasp the simplest ideas. 

Very patiently Mildred went over and 
over the same things, carefully explaining 
every difficulty in the simplest language 
she could command. 

“ I’m afraid it’s too much for me,” he 


DICK. 


77 


sighed, with a look of puzzled discourage- 
ment on his face. 

“ Don’t give up yet,” urged Mildred. 
“Try once more, and perhaps you will un- 
derstand it better.” 

Then again the dull brain was tasked, 
and this time it began to understand what 
was wanted and responded to its unwonted 
goading. There was a flash of intelligence 
in the heavy face, and Dick’s discouraged 
look vanished. 

Mildred did not prolong the lesson after 
this first step had been gained, lest the 
unused brain should become over-weary, 
but each day she renewed her instructions, 
and after the first week her patience was 
amply rewarded. 

Dick’s perseverance was unconquerable, 
and with a dogged determination he gave 
his whole mind to conquering the rudiments 
which he realized must be mastered thor- 
oughly before anything further could be 
attained. 


yS THE BOYS OF R/VERTON. 

It was hard work — how hard perhaps 
even Mildred did not fully realize — but 
the boy was determined, and this determi- 
nation overcame all the obstacles in his 
path ; and in his slow way he thought over 
his lessons until he knew that he had fully 
grasped their meaning. 

Then his progress was rapid enough to 
satisfy even the most exacting of teachers, 
and Mildred wondered while she delighted 
in it. 

The great rough hands tenderly, almost 
reverentially, touched the keys of the organ, 
and the sweet tones seemed to awaken a 
response in the depths of the boy’s soul. 
He had a genius for music that is rarely 
found, and the only wonder was that it had 
not sooner developed itself, instead of lying 
dormant so many years. 

Though he practiced patiently on the 
passages which cost him such hard study, 
he soon found voices in the keys that would 
respond to any melody that took shape in 


DICK. 


79 


his mind, and he would sit absorbed for 
hours, playing snatches of familiar tunes 
or improvising bits of harmony. 

If Mildred looked away from the heavy, 
coarse features and dull eyes, and listened 
only to the boy’s playing, she felt that in 
giving that musical instinct the power of 
expression she had freed the angel impris- 
oned in an unsightly block of marble. 

Dick’s devotion to Mrs. Lyte was almost 
touching. His gratitude seemed to know 
no bounds, and, though he did not often 
put it into words, she realized it none the 
less. He was willing to do anything at her 
request, and she knew that his heart was 
completely conquered. 

Her one wish now was to lead him by 
this human love to the divine love, and, 
strange as it may seem, the very depth of 
his affection for her made her task the 
harder. He loved her for the affection she 
had first felt for him and for the sacrifices 
she had made for him in patiently giving 


8o 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


her time to teach him the beloved music 
which made his whole life seem different. 
But when she spoke to him of the greater 
love which had made an infinitely greater 
sacrifice than any human friend could make, 
she could not win any response. He lis- 
tened because she spoke, and he was evi- 
dently willing to do anything to please her ; 
but that was all. 

“ I’ll do anything you say, Mrs. Lyte,’' he 
would answer humbly ; and his seat in church 
and at the prayer-meeting was never vacant. 
He tried to pray because Mildred had asked 
him to, but his sole thought was of pleasing 
her, and it seemed wellnigh impossible to 
give him an idea of any higher reason. 

Mildred was anxious to teach him some 
other things besides music, for his educa- 
tion had been of the most desultory kind, 
and he could scarcely read or write ; but 
after patient and oft-repeated efforts she 
had to relinquish her desires. 

He did not seem capable of study, and. 


DICK. 


tho'ugh he tried faithfully, the very rudi- 
ments of reading and arithmetic appeared 
wholly beyond him. Music seemed an in- 
stinct with him, and he made extraordinary 
progress in it, but it was a hopeless task to 
teach him anything else. 

“A queer notion of Mrs. Lyte’s, to give 
that boy music-lessons,” people said as they 
watched the uncouth form and awkward 
gait, which certainly did not suggest his 
susceptibility to anything as refining as a 
love of music. “ It keeps him out of the 
pool-room and off the street, though, so I 
suppose there is that much good in it.” 

Mildred’s great desire, now that Dick 
had been won, was to reach his grand- 
mother. She had called once to see her, 
but had met with little encouragement to 
repeat her visit. 

The old woman had received her with a 
defiant air, which would not yield to the in- 
fluence of Mildred’s pleasant ways. In her 

own way, she seemed fond of Dick, who 
6 


82 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


was her only daughter’s child, but when 
Mildred tried to propitiate her by speaking 
kindly of the boy, she seemed to resent 
Mildred’s friendship for him, and to be 
jealously fearful lest Mildred should seek 
to win him away from her. There seemed' 
no way of becoming friendly with her, and 
Mildred had gone home feeling that her 
call had been a failure. 

One day Dick failed to make his appear- 
ance at the usual hour for his lesson, and 
when Mildred had almost given him up he 
came breathless, running to announce, 

“ Grandmother’s sick, Mrs. Lyte, and 
there’s no one to mind her, so I can’t 
stay to-day.” 

“ I’m sorry to hear that, Dick,” answered 
Mildred. “What is the matter with her?” 

“ She fell down and hurt herself yester- 
day,” replied Dick, “ and to-day she’s got a 
fever, I guess, she’s so hot and tosses 
about so.” 

“ I will come down in a few minutes and 


DICK. 


83 


see if I can’t do something to make her 
more comfortable,” said Mildred as the 
boy took his departure. 

Putting in a basket a few little things 
that she thought might be of use, she 
followed Dick, wondering what her recep- 
tion would be. 

As she entered the house she heard 
Dick’s voice speaking up stairs, and his 
grandmother’s muttered response, accom- 
panied by moans. 

“ May I come up ?” called Mildred ; and, 
scarcely waiting for Dick’s answer, she 
climbed the stairs and entered the room 
where the sick woman lay. 

Walking over to the bedside, Mildred 
took the feverish hand in her own, and 
said, 

“ I was so sorry to hear from Dick this 
morning that you were sick, and I thought 
I would come down and see if I could not 
do something.” 

The woman did not answer; she closed 


84 THE BOYS OF FIVE ETON. 

her eyes and turned her head restlessly on 
the pillow, without a word or a gesture of 
welcome. 

“ I think you would be more comfortable 
if the light from this window did not shine 
in your face,” said Mildred, untying the 
string which held up the curtain and gave 
the bright morning sun a chance to stream 
upon the bed. 

“Fve had a headache all the morning, 
the light’s been dazzling my eyes so,” said 
the old woman as she opened her eyes and 
impatiently pushed her tangled hair back 
from her forehead ; and Mildred, encour- 
aged by the implied approbation of her 
first step toward making things more com- 
fortable, ventured to make some inquiries 
as to the nature of her fall. 

“ Don’t you think you ought to have the 
doctor’s advice ?” she asked as she felt how 
parched with fever the hot skin was, and 
heard of the pain that had caused the suf- 
ferer a wakeful night. 


DICK. 85 

The old woman muttered a reluctant as- 
sent, and Mildred quickly despatched Dick 
on the errand. 

She moved quietly about the disordered 
room, trying to bring order out of the 
chaos which prevailed everywhere. Find- 
ing a clean towel, she filled a bowl with 
fresh, cool water from the well, and gently 
bathed the sick woman’s face and hands 
and brushed back the tangled gray hair. 
A further search revealed some clean bed- 
linen, and Mildred put a fresh pillow-case 
in the place of the wofully soiled one, and 
beat up the pillow before she slipped it in 
the place of the one under the aching 
head. 


CHAPTER VI. 


MILDRED^ S PATIENT. 


LITTLE sigh of relief from Mrs. 



/~V Ellis followed the exchange, and, 
though she vouchsafed no word of thanks, 
the old woman was so evidently pleased 
with the gentle ministrations that Mildred 
was encouraged to proceed in her labor of 
love without fear of rebuff. 

Mildred was not experienced in illness, 
but she could see that the sick woman's 
fever was rapidly increasing, and she wait- 
ed impatiently for Dick’s return with the 
doctor. 

A few minutes later the boy returned 
alone, to report that the doctor had been 
called several miles into the country to con- 
sult with another physician, and was not 
expected home until late that afternoon. 


86 


MILDRED^ S PATIENT, 


87 


Mildred stood for a moment in perplexed 
thought ; then she hastily penciled a note. 

“Dick,” she said quickly, “try to get me 
a little piece of ice at the nearest place, 
and then take this note to Mrs. Harvey: 
you know where she lives?” 

Dick nodded assent, and deposited the 
note in his pocket. 

“ ril fetch the ice in a moment,” he ex- 
claimed, and darted off. 

He returned almost immediately, and, 
depositing his dripping burden, hastened 
away on his other errand. 

Mildred cracked the ice into small pieces 
and took it up stairs with her. The poor 
old woman was moaning and tossing rest- 
lessly about, and Mildred wished that she 
knew what to do to relieve her suffering. 
She was well aware that Mrs. Harvey was 
an excellent nurse, and would be able to 
advise her, but she wondered whether there 
was not something that she could do while 
awaiting her arrival. 


88 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON, 


Mildred stood by the bed and looked 
pityingly at the flushed face on the pillow. 
The features were swollen, and the breath 
was yet redolent of the fumes of the liquor 
that had been the cause of the mishap. 
There was seemingly nothing attractive or 
lovable about the poor old woman, and 
if Mildred’s pity had not overcome every 
other feeling, she would have shrunk away 
from her in disgust. 

The pieces of ice were greedily seized, 
and allayed the burning thirst that accom- 
panied the fever. 

Mildred listened anxiously for Dick’s re- 
turning footsteps, and after an interval so 
short as to show what haste he had made 
she heard him coming down the street, his 
unfailing whistle accompanying his rapid 
movements. She went down stairs to meet 
him, eager to know how soon Mrs. Harvey 
could come. She was destined to disap- 
pointment, however, for Dick reported as 
he handed her a small package. 


MILDRED^ S PATIENT. 


89 


“ Mrs. Harvey told me to tell you she’s 
sorry she can’t come, for her baby’s sick 
and she can’t leave her. She asked me all 
about grandmother, and I told her as near 
as I could, and she sent you these two 
bottles of medicine and said the direc- 
tions were on them and you would know 
how to use them.” 

Mildred was sorely disappointed. She 
was almost afraid to do anything for the 
sick woman on her own responsibility, lest 
she should make some mistake and do more 
harm than good. Opening the package 
that contained the bottles, she found that 
one medicine was for allaying fever, and the 
directions were so explicit that a mistake 
would hardly be possible, and the other 
bottle contained liniment for external ap- 
plication. 

“She said to rub grandmother’s ankle 
with that liniment and it would take the 
swelling out,” said Dick. 

“ I wish Mrs. Harvey could have come,” 


90 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

said Mildred regretfully, “ but I must do the 
best I can.’* 

Giving Mrs. Ellis a dose of the medicine 
to quiet her restlessness and fever, she be- 
gan her task of bathing the sprain. The 
ankle was badly swollen and very painful, 
for nothing had been done to relieve it. 
The first thing needed was a thorough 
cleansing, but, not unnaturally, Mildred 
shrank at the thought and felt as if she 
could not do this. 

Yet what was to be done? Dick with 
his great clumsy hands could not perform 
this office, and Mildred knew that the quar- 
relsome old woman had no friends among 
her neighbors. She stood irresolute for a 
few moments. Then a scene pictured it- 
self before her — the large upper room at 
Jerusalem where the disciples met with 
their Lord around the table for the last 
time in tender communion, “when Jesus 
knew that his hour was come that he 
should depart out of this world unto the 


MILDRED ’ 6 ^ PA TIENT. 


91 

Father.” Then when that last feast had 
drawn to an end the Saviour, so soon now 
to leave the sorrowing disciples, with whom 
he would no more drink the fruit of the 
vine till he should drink it with them in his 
Father’s kingdom, girded himself and laved 
the travel-stained feet of his disciples. 

She could almost hear the tender accents 
of the voice addressing the disciples : “If I 
then, your Lord and Master, have washed 
your feet, ye also ought to wash one an- 
other’s feet. For I have given you an 
example, that ye should do as I have 
done to you.” 

Yet one of his disciples shrank from 
that menial office ! Mildred hesitated no 
longer ; the thought of the Master’s exam- 
ple glorified the deed, and, ashamed of her 
momentary reluctance, with tender touch 
she performed her task and then applied 
the liniment. It soon brought relief, and 
then Mildred made a cup of tea and 
browned a delicate slice of toast, for she 


92 


thb: boys of riverton. 


was afraid that the sick woman would soon 
crave some stimulant if she did not partake 
of Other nourishment. 

It was time to think of home-duties when 
all this was done, and Mildred left her pa- 
tient in Disk’s care and hastened home- 
ward. Would her morning’s work bear 
any fruit ? In that unsightly casket was a 
precious soul, and she felt that no effort 
would be too great to make that resulted in 
its salvation. Yet human love must find. its 
way to that heart to bear the message of 
the Father’s love. 

Dick came over a few hours later to re- 
port that the doctor had been there and 
had seen his grandmother’s swollen ankle, 
and had said that she was doing nicely and 
would soon be about again. 

The old woman’s recovery was not quite 
as rapid as the doctor had anticipated, how- 
ever, for she was too impatient to lie still, 
and chafed over her enforced quietude 
when she found that her ankle could not 


MILDRED'S PATIENT. 


93 


be forced into doing its duty until it had 
recovered from the sprain. 

Mildred went to see her patient every 
day, taking some little delicacy that she 
thought might tempt the capricious appe- 
tite, and performing various little offices as 
gently and tenderly as a sister might have 
done them. Gradually the suspicious look 
with which the old woman watched her at 
first wore away, and Mildred’s visits were 
received with evident pleasure. 

“Will you let me read to you a little 
while ?” asked Mildred one day, drawing 
from her pocket the tiny well-worn copy of 
St. John’s Gospel which was her constant 
companion. She made the request timidly, 
half fearful that Mrs. Ellis would refuse to 
listen, but the reluctant assent was given : 

“You can if you want to; I don’t care.” 

Not a very cordial assent, but Mildred 
was too glad to receive it, even grudging- 
ly given, to complain of its lack of warmth, 
and she read a chapter aloud, pausing now 


94 the boys of RIVERTON. 

and then to glance at the immovable face 
and tightly-closed eyes, and wonder wheth- 
er the indifference was wholly real or 
assumed. 

She would have commented on one of 
her favorite passages, but at the first word 
Mrs. Ellis opened her eyes and exclaimed 
angrily, 

“ I won’t stand nobody preaching at me. 
I’m willing to let you read, seeing you want 
to, but I won’t listen to nothing else. Now, 
I mean what I say.” 

After this peremptory refusal to listen 
to anything but reading Mildred contented 
herself with this, feeling assured that the 
inspired words would touch this heart when 
her weak human words would fail. 

“ God’s word shall not return unto him 
void.” She comforted herself with this 
thought, and trusted that the seed she was 
sowing in love should spring up and bear 
a bountiful harvest in God’s own time and 


way. 


MILDRED'S PAT/ENT. 


95 


It took a vast fund of patience to bear 
with the old woman’s petulance and whims, 
and if Mildred had had any lower aim be- 
fore her than to accomplish work for her 
Master, her patience would often utterly 
have failed. 

In the mean time she had been having 
much encouragement in her work among 
the boys, though she had been obliged to 
lay aside many of her plans as impracti- 
cable. 

Other boys had joined the society, at- 
tracted by the library and pleasant place of 
meeting. These later additions were boys 
who did not need these advantages so much 
as did the boys for whom Mildred had 
originally designed the room, but she was 
glad to welcome them, for in many ways 
their presence was a help. 

They were bright, intelligent boys whose 
home-training had fitted them to enjoy the 
books and illustrations, and little habits of 
courtesy which had become an instinct with 


96 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

them set a good example of politeness to the 
other boys, who were quick to follow it. 

The literary society had sadly flagged in 
interest until the accession of these new 
members, for the attainments of the orig- 
inal members in elocution or debate were 
limited in the extreme, and they were re- 
luctant to take any part in the evening’s 
entertainment, although they enjoyed list- 
ening to others. 

It was very hard for Mildred to give up 
the plan she had so carefully laid for their 
improvement, and to satisfy herself with 
helping them only in the ways in which 
they would allow her. Ambitious and fond 
of study herself, it took her some time to 
realize that these boys were without ambi- 
tion and perfectly contented to be ignorant. 
Her first task, if she would begin at the 
foundation, was to instill ambition and a 
desire for knowledge into them, and she 
must be contented to do this by slow 
degrees. 


MILDRED'S PATIENT. 97 

Though she was obliged to admit to her- 
self that she was failing in her plans for 
their improvement, yet she was succeeding 
in many of her other purposes. She was 
establishing a firm friendship with these 
boys, and they were beginning to realize 
that in the minister’s wife they had a friend 
who really loved them, and proved it by 
her willingness to do anything that she 
could for their happiness. They wondered 
a little how it had happened, but they ac- 
cepted it as a fact which was beyond dis- 
pute, and, as love begets love, their hearts 
responded to her affection. 

Whenever she met them on the street 
she was greeted by bright smiles and nods 
of recognition, and some of the boys were 
beginning to lift their caps in a gallant way 
that delighted Mildred. 

“What Mrs. Lyte can find so interesting 
in those great rough boys is a mystery,” 
one and another said as they saw that 

her interest and affection were unfeigned ; 

7 


98 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

and Mildred herself sometimes wondered 
at it. 

Now that she had established a claim on 
the boys’ affections, she felt that the soil 
was ready for the seed she longed to sow, 
and she only waited a convenient opportu- 
nity. 


CHAPTER VII. 


FRANKS S LETTER. 

“ 1\ /T RS. LYTE, I’m going away visiting 
i-VX for a week, and I wanted to know 
if you would mind writing me a letter?” 

Mildred looked up in surprise. It was 
an unusual thing for any of the Riverton 
boys to leave home, and Frank, she knew, 
had never been away before. 

“ I never got a letter in my life,” he said, 
twirling his cap about in his restless fingers 
as he spoke, “and if you wouldn’t mind the 
bother of writing I should like to get one 
from you so much !” 

Mildred promised gladly, pleased at the 
boy’s desire to hear from her during his 
absence ; and the boy went away feeling 
more regret at leaving his kind friend than 
at going away from his home. 


99 


lOO 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


Frank was only to be away a week, so 
Mildred did not have very much time for 
the fulfillment of her promise. When she 
sat down to write to him a day or two after 
his departure she yielded to a sudden im- 
pulse and wrote a letter of tender entreaty, 
pleading lovingly with him to consecrate 
his life from that very hour to Christ and 
his service, and telling him that the great 
desire of her heart for him was to see him 
an earnest Christian. 

After the letter had started on its way 
she was filled with misgivings lest she had 
written too hastily, and might defeat her 
own purpose by starding the boy and rais- 
ing a barrier between them. Yet she 
would not have undone her work if it had 
been possible to recall the missive, and 
earnest prayers followed it that it might 
accomplish the good work for which it had 
been sent and find an entrance into Frank’s 
heart. 

Mildred had not looked for an answer, 


FRANKS S LETTER. 


lOI 


but by return mail a letter came which she 
recognized by the irregular and uncertain 
handwriting on the envelope to be a re- 
sponse from Frank. She hastily opened it, 
eager to learn how her words had been re- 
ceived, but as her eyes fell on the opening 
words her cheeks flushed and she crushed 
the letter angrily in her hands into a crum- 
pled ball of paper and threw it into her 
desk. 

Her eyes filled with indignant tears as 
she turned the key in the lock, as if to shut 
away from her the sight of the letter that 
roused her anger. 

“ My dere Mildrid ” the letter began ; 
and every time that the words came into 
her mind during the remainder of the day 
Mildred felt a thrill of resentment at the 
impertinent familiarity. How dared the 
boy presume on her kindness to him ? 
She felt humiliated as well as indignant, 
and she shrank from telling even her hus- 
band how her kindness had been abused. 


102 


THE BOYS OF FJ FEE TO AT. 


At last a curiosity to see what else the 
letter contained asserted itself, and Mildred 
unrolled the crumpled ball of paper, with 
its blotted, almost illegible, writing, resolved 
to see what further impertinence the boy 
had been guilty of. 

To her surprise, the rest of the letter, 
when she finally puzzled out its meaning, 
was just what she could have wished it to 
be. 

Frank thanked her for the letter, and 
told her that he had made up his mind, 
then and there, to be a Christian, adding in 
boyish language that he should have to 
wait till he came home to begin his new 
life, “ for he did not know how to go about 
it." 

So swift had been the answer to Mil- 
dred’s prayers, and so speedy the response 
to her appeal, that she scarcely realized 
that her heart’s desire was about to be 
granted. 

Then, too, the beginning of the letter 


FRANK^S LETTER. 


103 


puzzled her. The boy could scarcely have 
intended it for deliberate impertinence when 
the rest of the letter was thoroughly re- 
spectful as well as affectionate, yet it hardly 
seemed credible that it could be the result 
of ignorance. Surely an instinct of what 
was fitting would have warned the boy that 
he should have used a more respectful title 
in addressing her. 

The pleasure which the rest of the letter 
would otherwise have given Mildred was 
sadly marred by the familiarity which pre- 
ceded it, and she could not repress a feel- 
ing of anger even while she resolved to be- 
lieve that it was a mistake and could be ex- 
plained when Frank returned. 

If Mildred could have conquered this 
resentment, she would have written to en- 
courage him in his new resolution, but she 
could not free herself from it; so she re- 
solved to await his return. 

The following Wednesday evening the 
church-bell was just ringing its last sum- 


104 


THE BOYS OF BJ FEE TO AT. 


mons to the weekly prayer-meeting as the 
train rolled into the little station. From 
her seat at the organ Mildred saw Frank 
enter the room and seat himself quietly in 
a pew near the door. 

She fancied that his face looked brighter 
and more attractive for his new resolve, 
but the remembrance of that letter could 
not be banished long enough for her to 
give him a hearty welcome even in her 
thoughts. 

Mildred was detained for a few minutes 
after prayer-meeting, and when she left the 
room she found Frank waiting for her be- 
side the door. 

“ Mrs. Lyte, I want to tell you some- 
thing,” he began as she extended her hand 
to him. “ I don’t know how to look you in 
the face again, and I’m awfully ashamed, 
but I want to tell you I didn’t mean any 
harm the way I began my letter to you. 
You see, I never had a letter before in my 
life, and I had never written one, so I didn’t 


FRANK'S LETTER. 


105 


know how people began letters ; and when 
I wanted to write to you I just got your 
letter out and looked at it, and it began, 
‘ My dear Frank so I supposed that was 
the way I ought to begin mine. I remem- 
bered hearing what your name was, so I 
started my letter as near like yours as I 
could ; and I thought it was all right till I 
happened to tell my aunt about it, and then 
she said you’d be awful angry and never 
look at me again, for I couldn’t have done 
anything worse if I had tried. I have felt 
so bad about it ever since, and I came home 
two days earlier than I had meant to, so I 
could tell you about it. You know I didn’t 
do it a-purpose, don’t you ?” he asked 
pleadingly; and there was a suspicious 
tremor in the boy’s voice, and as the light 
from the open door flashed on his face, 
Mildred saw that his eyes were full of 
tears. 

Her lingering resentment had vanished 
so swiftly before the boy’s explanation that 


io6 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


it did not seem possible to her now that it 
had ever existed. 

“ Of course I know you didn’t intend to 
offend me, my dear boy,” she said kindly, 
“ so don’t think any more about it. I was 
so very glad to get the good news which 
the rest of your letter contained! You 
have made me very happy, Frank. Come 
up and see me to-morrow morning. I want 
to have a long talk with you.” 

“Yes’m, I’ll come. Good-night;” and 
the boy’s face grew bright again as he 
found how cordially his explanation had 
been received. 

As Mildred walked home with her hus- 
band in the quiet moonlight she told him 
of her indignation at what she had sup- 
posed was impudence on Frank’s part, 
and how simple the explanation had been. 
They could join in a hearty laugh at her 
wrath, for it seemed only amusing to her 
now that the cause for it was so effectually 
removed. 


FRANKS S LETTER. 


107 


They rejoiced together with heartfelt joy 
over Frank’s determination to lead a Chris- 
tian life. He was the first-fruits of the 
harvest that Mildred hoped would spring 
in the Master’s own time from this corner 
of the vineyard which she was tilling for 
him. 

Early in the morning Frank came, and 
Mildred gladly welcomed him. She had 
supposed that he would feel a boyish 
hesitation in speaking of his new hopes 
and feelings to her or to her husband, but 
his outspoken frankness made her task an 
easy one. 

“ I want to know just what it means to 
be a Christian, and how I must begin,” he 
said ; and his ignorance was so complete 
that Mildred had to tell him “ the old^ old 
story of Jesus and his love” as simply as 
she would have told it to a little child who 
had never heard the Saviour’s name. He 
eagerly drank in the wonderful story, it 
was so new and strange to him. 


io8 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


It hardly seemed possible to Mildred 
that this boy, whose life had been spent 
within sound of the church-bells, should 
be wholly ignorant of the story of the 
redemption ; yet so it was. 

“ How can any one help loving Jesus 
when he died for us ?” asked Frank. “ It’s 
so mean not to love him after that. Why, 
I believe I would always have loved him if 
I had known just how before, but I always 
thought it was something hard to do to be 
a Christian.” 

With the faith and trust of a little child 
he believed and accepted the offer of sal- 
vation, and was eager to prove his love to 
his new-found Saviour by enlisting in his 
service. 

He went up to the study for a little talk 
with Mr. Lyte before he left the house, and 
the minister was perfectly convinced of the 
boy’s sincerity and love. Ignorant as he 
was of the simplest doctrines, as well as 
of the contents of the Bible, he had at 


FJ^ANK'S LETTER. 


109 


once grasped the meaning of the verse, 
“ God so loved the world that he gave his 
only-begotten Son, that whosoever believ- 
eth in him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life.” 

The work of grace had been so quietly 
wrought in Frank’s heart that he knew not 
how or when it had been done ; he was 
conscious only of new feelings, new de- 
sires and a love to his Saviour that was 
stronger than any emotion he had ever 
experienced. 

Mildred’s heart was overflowing with joy 
and gratitude. She could scarcely believe 
that one of her cherished hopes had been 
realized, and she felt rebuked for her want 
of faith. She had undertaken this work 
for the Master, asking humbly for his guid- 
ance and blessing, yet she had not fully ex- 
pected to reap the harvest; and here it 
was beginning already to be ready for 
garnering. She was infinitely more than 
repaid for her work and self-sacrifice, and 


no 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


she was encouraged to greater hopeful- 
ness concerning the other boys. 

Frank came daily to her for instruction, 
for he felt that he was ignorant of many 
things that a Christian ought to know, and 
Mildred realized what a sealed treasure 
the Bible had hitherto been to the boy 
when she saw the interest he took in sto- 
ries that had been familiar to her from 
babyhood. 

He could not read well enough to profit 
much by anything that he puzzled out 
alone, and he gladly accepted Mildred’s 
offer to teach him to read and write. 
With an energy and a perseverance to 
which he had hitherto been a stranger 
he patiently toiled over the pages of his 
copybook, and the slow progress that he 
made at first did not seem to discourage 
him. 

“ How I have wasted all my life !” he said 
once as he stumbled over a page in his 
reading-book that a child of seven could 


FRANK^S LETTER. 


Ill 


have read fluently. “ I’ll have to work 
hard to make up for it.” 

And work hard he did, making such 
steady though slow progress that Mildred 
thoroughly enjoyed teaching him. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A DISAPPOINTMENT. 

“ T T GRACE, I am going to abdicate 
A A my position as general manager 
of the literary society,” said Mildred one 
evening when she returned from a meet- 
ing of the society. “ I must confess that 
I am unequal to its duties.” 

Mr. Lyte looked up from his writing 
with a smile. 

“ Have you been trying forcibly to eject 
some unruly member, and found your 
strength unequal to the occasion ?” he 
asked. 

“ No, indeed !” exclaimed Mildred with 
mock indignation. “ Those boys are mod- 
els of dignity and good behavior on society 

evenings, whatever they may be at other 
112 


A DISAPPOINTMENT. II3 

times; but my education has unfortunate- 
ly been neglected in regard to parliament- 
ary rules ; so when they appeal to me to 
settle some simple point concerning the 
privileges of debating members, I know 
just as little as they do about it. I sug- 
gested to them to-night that we should ask 
you to join, and that your superior knowl- 
edge would be invaluable to us ; and they 
immediately voted for you with delighted 
unanimity ; so you are constituted a mem- 
ber of the Excelsior Literary Society.” 

“ I am overwhelmed by the honor,” an- 
swered Mr. Lyte, “ and I shall be delighted 
to report myself at their next meeting. I 
think I can help them, for I used to be quite 
a leading member in the college literary 
society. It has been so long ago that I 
may be pardoned for my vanity in thinking 
that I was quite indispensable.” 

“The boys will agree with you in that 
conceited opinion,” said Mildred, laugh- 
ing. “ But there is something eke that I 


1 14 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

have been thinking about. Perhaps it 
would be for the good of the society if I 
should withdraw from it. I will persist in 
being unparliamentary, and instead of rising 
and addressing the chair as ‘ Mr. President,’ 
I am just as likely as not to call out ‘ Dick 
which of course isn’t dignified enough to 
suit the proceedings of such an important 
body. I will explain to the boys that it is 
not from any lack of interest in the society 
that I withdraw from it, but because it is 
not customary for ladies to be members of 
young men’s literary societies and debating 
clubs, and that it may be better for the so- 
ciety to adhere to the usual customs.” 

“ I scarcely think they will be willing to 
accept your resignation,” answered her hus- 
band, “ but I am highly complimented that 
they have so far overcome their awe of me 
that they are willing to admit me as a mem- 
ber.” 

Before the next regular meeting Mildred 
had talked to the boys, and suggested that 


A DISAPPOINTMENT. II5 

it would perhaps be better to have it strict- 
ly a young men’s society, without even a 
single exception in her favor, and they had 
reluctantly agreed to accept her resignation. 

When the minister entered the room 
where the boys were assembled on the 
following Thursday evening a momentary 
constraint rested upon them, but Mr. Lyte 
soon banished this shyness by proving how 
sociable and entertaining he could be, if he 
was a minister. He was well acquainted 
with some of the boys, at whose homes he 
had been a frequent and welcome visitor, 
and it did not take him long to show the 
others that he had not so far outgrown his 
boyhood that he had forgotten a boy’s feel- 
ings and tastes. 

They privately voted him “jolly” and a 
“ regular brick ” — terms which most em- 
phatically expressed their boyish approval. 

Mrs. Lyte’s formal resignation was read, 
and a committee appointed to express their 
regrets at its acceptance, and then the so- 


Il6 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

ciety was reorganized in a thoroughly busi- 
ness-like way and a constitution drawn up 
that delighted the boys. 

Mildred smiled over the characteristic 
note that was presented to her the next 
day by the chairman of the committee 
appointed to receive her resignation : 


“To Mrs. Horace Lyte: 

“We send our deepest regrets by accept- 
ing her resignation. And also send our 
heartfelt thanks to her for her devotion 
toward us boys shown by founding such 
a nice society, and we all value highly 
your kindness to us. 

Dick Nelson, 
Committee, Fred Norris, 

Charlie Percival.’' 


The note was written in Charlie Perci- 
vaFs round boyish hand, and the commit- 
tee with many a flourish had signed their 
names in their best handwriting. 


A DISAPPOINTMENT. 


II7 


Mildred put this note away among her 
treasures, smiling a little over the mixture 
of second and third persons, while a mist 
of happy tears filled her eyes over the 
affectionate regard that was so boyishly 
expressed. 

The boys were loud in their praises of 
Mr. Lyte’s management of their society, 
and at their next meeting he was unani- 
mously declared president. They missed 
Mrs. Lyte, however, more than they had 
even at their previous meeting, and before 
the evening was over more than one had 
made up his mind that even if it was un- 
constitutional and unparliamentary they 
must have her back again. 

A brief discussion was held on the cor- 
ner that evening before they dispersed, 
and the result of it was that the next 
day Mildred received another communi- 
cation from the boys : 

“ Mrs. Lyte : We, the undersigned mem- 
bers of the E. L. S., ask and petition you 


Il8 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

to come back to our society, as we cannot 
get along without you.” 

Then followed the signatures of all the 
boys in the society, the sheet of paper 
bearing unmistakable evidence of the 
number of more or less soiled hands 
through which it had passed. 

In the depths of Mildred’s heart, al- 
though she had not expressed it even to 
herself, there had been a feeling of dis- 
appointment that the boys had been able 
to do without her, and had apparently en- 
joyed the meetings so much ; so she was 
rejoiced to read “as we cannot get along 
without you ” at the end of this formally- 
worded petition. 

Her name was replaced upon the list of 
members, and the boys resolved that it 
should never again be struck off. 

The heat of the summer months made it 
necessary to close the reading-room and 
adjourn the meetings of the society to 
cooler weather. 


A DISAPPOINTMENT. 


119 


One evening in every week the library 
was open, that those of the members who 
desired books might m^ake their selection, 
but the remainder of the week it was 
closed. 

Mildred did not See as much of the boys 
as she formerly did, but she was contented 
with the general improvement that they 
had made during the winter and spring, 
and was not afraid that they would return 
to their old habits. 

She was wholly unprepared for the story 
of their misdoings which she heard a few 
weeks later from a lady who called upon 
her to inform her of the boys’ conduct. 

“You must feel quite discouraged about 
those boys, Mrs. L^te,” she began sweetly, 
“ it is so trying to find that one’s efforts 
are entirely thrown away ! Perhaps you 
remember I warned you not to expect 
much from them ? I knew you would be 
disappointed.” 

“ I have not had the least reason for dis- 


120 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


couragement,” answered Mildred, some- 
what nettled in temper by her visitor’s 
manner. 

“Ah, then, perhaps you are not aware 
of the way in which they have been spend- 
ing their evenings lately?” returned her 
visitor. “ It is simply disgraceful, the way 
they have been drinking ; but I supposed 
you knew all about it or I should not have 
mentioned the subject.” 

“Drinking?” echoed Mildred faintly, her 
her heart sinking at the thought. 

“Yes, they have been drinking for some 
time now. That man who keeps the pool- 
room has been warned not to sell them any 
more liquor by the glass, so they buy his 
wretched whisky in bottles ; which is really 
worse for them, because they get so much 
more of it. They are in the habit of meet- 
ing in that reading-room of theirs, and then 
going over to the river-bank and spending 
the remainder of the evening in drinking. 
When boys have a place to congregate to- 


A DISAPPOINTMENT. 


I2I 


gether in that way, they are very apt to 
devise schemes of mischief that one alone 
would never think of.’' 

“The reading room has been closed now 
for some weeks,” answered Mildred, fully 
understanding the implication that it was at 
the bottom of all the wrong-doing, “ so they 
could not have met there to drink, and I 
scarcely think that even if it had been open 
it would have been a better place to plot 
mischief than the street-corners, where the 
boys met before they had a room. I am 
very sorry to hear this, for I had no idea of 
anything of the kind.” 

“Well, those boys are so deceitful that 
you can hardly trust them out of your sight 
without their getting into some mischief. 
There’s that Frank Harris: he is one of 
the worst of them, and yet he makes every 
pretence of being one of the best boys in 
town.” 

“Frank Harris? impossible !” exclaimed 
Mildred. “I am sure Frank had nothing 


122 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


to do with such conduct. There must be 
some mistake.” 

Naturally, you find this hard to believe,” 
said Mrs. Lindsay, enjoying Mildred’s look 
of pained astonishment. “ I heard his name 
mentioned particularly by pretty good au- 
thority, so I do not think there is any room 
for mistake.” 

It was very hard for Mildred to give her 
attention to the topics of general interest 
which her visitor discussed during the next 
half hour. Her thoughts were with the 
boys. Was it possible that Frank could 
have systematically stooped to such decep- 
tion after his profession of a sincere desire 
to lead a new life ? If he had been strong- 
ly tempted and had fallen once, however 
low, under the stress of strong temptation, 
she could have found excuse for him and 
have helped him to begin anew, but this 
systematic deception disheartened her. 

Her first impulse was to go to him at 
once and ask if this story were true, but she 


A DISAPPOINTMENT. 


123 


restrained her impatience, and resolved to 
wait until he came the next day at the usual 
hour for his lessons. 

He had spoken of uniting with the church 
at the next communion, and with this season 
drawing so near it did not seem possible 
that he could so far have fallen from the 
life which a Christian ought to lead. 

Mildred was no less grieved for the other 
boys. She had loved them and trusted 
them so implicitly that it was very hard for 
her to think that they had yielded again to 
old temptations and forfeited her confidence 
in them. 


CHAPTER IX. 

FRANKS S TRIAL. 

M ILDRED’S heart ached all the rest 
of the afternoon with her new 
trouble, and at last she could no longer 
restrain the tears that would come at the 
thought of Frank’s deception. 

She was curled up on the lounge in the 
sitting-room, relieving her overburdened 
heart by letting her tears freely flow, 
when Mr. Lyte returned from some calls 
he had been making. 

“Why, Mildred, what is the matter?” he 
exclaimed as he drew aside the afghan and 
disclosed her tear-stained face. “ Are you 
sick, darling? What is troubling you so?” 

As Mildred felt the strong arms about 
her in a loving embrace her sobs ceased, 

124 


FRANK^S TRIAL. 


125 


and presently, in answer to her husband’s 
anxious inquiries, she said sadly, 

“ I am so miserable about the boys. I 
have just heard such a story about them 
this afternoon, and the worst of it is that 
Frank has been as bad as the rest.” 

“What have they been doing?” inquired 
Mr. Lyte. 

“ They have been buying whisky at the 
pool-room and going down to the river to 
drink it in the evenings ; and Frank has 
been with them, too.” 

“ I don’t believe a word of it,” pro- 
nounced Mr. Lyte, in a tone of decided 
conviction. “At least, I don’t believe that 
Frank has been doing anything of the sort. 
I am afraid it may be true about the others, 
and I am sorry for it; but I am just as sure 
that Frank hasn’t had anything to do with 
it as I am that I haven’t been with them 
myself, and I think you’ll admit that 
there’s a reasonable certainty that I am 
innocent.” 


126 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


Mildred smiled through her tears as her 
husband proceeded : 

“ There has been a great change in that 
boy, and I am sure that he has been too 
deeply and solemnly in earnest to yield to 
any temptation of that kind. My faith in 
human nature will be much shaken if I find 
that my confidence in him has been mis- 
placed, for unless he admits it himself I 
will not believe that he is guilty. Who 
told you about this affair?” 

“ Mrs Lindsay, when she was here this 
afternoon,” answered Mildred. 

“You must remember Mrs. Lindsay is, 
and always has been, opposed to this work 
among the boys, and so it is only natural 
that she should be pleased at learning any- 
thing of this kind about them, as it tends to 
prove her own wisdom. Then, too, the 
story probably reached her through sev- 
eral informants, and was exaggerated each 
time that it was repeated. You may find 
that matters are not half as bad as they 


FRANK'S TRIAL. 


12 / 


have been represented, although of course 
there may be some foundation for the story. 
But, even then allowing that it is all true, 
dear Mildred, you must not be so heart- 
broken over it. It is discouraging, I know, 
but you must remember that it is very hard 
for these boys to break off at once the evil 
habits of years, and it is not to be wondered 
at if they fall sometimes, especially as they 
are yet walking in their own strength and 
have not learned to ask for divine help. 
Don’t give them up entirely because they 
have disappointed you once.” 

“ I feel as if it were partly my fault,” said 
Mildred sadly. 

“ Your fault, my dear girl ? Why, how 
can that be?” exclaimed her husband in 
surprise. 

“ At first, when I began to work for them, 
I realized that the task was almost hopeless, 
and that I could not hope to do anything 
for them unless God blessed my efforts. 
I prayed almost hourly that I might have 


128 


THE BOYS OF FI FEB TON. 


wisdom and tact to gain their love and in- 
fluence them for good, and I was afraid to 
take the simplest step in my own strength 
lest I should make a mistake. But lately 
I have realized that they were beginning to 
love me, and I am afraid I have been trust- 
ing too much to my own power to win them, 
and I know I have not been praying for 
them as earnestly as I should. Perhaps 
if I had been more faithful in prayer for 
them they would not have fallen.” 

“ It is too late to grieve over that now, 
dearest,” said Mr. Lyte, “ but you can be- 
gin anew, and perhaps the memory of mis- 
takes in the past will help you in the future. 
There comes Frank now. You had better 
set your mind at rest at once by asking him 
what share he had in this affair.” 

Mildred hastily bathed her face to re- 
move the traces of tears, and was ready to 
see Frank when he entered the house and 
was ushered into the cool sitting-room. 

There was a sad expression on his face, 


FRANK\S TRIAL, 


129 


very different from the bright look that gen- 
erally illumined it, and notwithstanding her 
husband’s firm belief in his innocence Mil- 
dred feared he had come to confess that 
he had been doing wrong. 

“Well, Frank, what is it?” she asked 
kindly as the boy hesitated. 

“I’m just clean discouraged, Mrs. Lyte,” 
he burst out impetuously. “ It’s no use for 
a boy to be good after he has lived a bad 
life, for no one will believe in him, and he 
gets a bad name, anyhow. I wouldn’t care 
so much for being blamed when I didn’t de- 
serve it, but I can’t bear to have folks put 
me down for a hypocrite ; and of course 
that’s what they can’t help but do.” 

“ Tell me about it, Frank,” said Mildred ; 
and, won by the sympathy that was ex- 
pressed in her face and gentle tones, the 
boy went on, dashing away a tear with a 
boyish scorn of showing emotion : 

“ I don’t see how to tell you without tell- 
ing on some of the other fellows, Mrs. 

9 


130 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

Lyte, and I don’t want to do that. I can’t 
separate myself from them in what I want 
to tell you.” 

“ You will not be telling me anything that 
I do not already know, Frank, if it is what 
I think you are going to tell me,” answered 
Mildred. “ Is it something about drink- 
ing?” 

“ Yes’m, that’s it,” said Frank with a look 
of surprise at her knowledge. “ I haven’t 
been with the boys once. They didn’t tell 
me anything about it, but I found it out by 
accident one evening. I was looking for 
Mrs. Dennis’s cow that had got lost, and I 
came upon the boys down on the river-bank. 
I didn’t stay only long enough to ask them 
to quit drinking, and they made me promise 
not to tell on them. That was the only 
time I was ever near them, and yet folks 
are saying that I was one of them, and 
somebody said this afternoon that I went 
down there to drink after I came out of 
prayer-meeting. Now, isn’t that hard, Mrs. 


FRANK'S TRIAL. 


I3I 

Lyte, to make me out such a hypocrite, 
when I don’t deserve it? I just felt at first 
as if I had better give up trying to be any- 
thing better than I have been, and then it 
seemed as if I could not give up ; I love 
the Lord too much to quit trying to please 
him.” 

“Indeed, it is hard to be unjustly ac- 
cused, my dear boy,” said Mildred, “but 
you know that you don’t deserve it, and 
that you have been trying to lead a con- 
sistent Christian life ; and that will make 
you happier than if you knew you deserved 
reproach. And Jesus knows just how hard 
it is for you, Frank, and he will help you 
bear this trouble. I hope we will be able 
to prove to everybody who has heard the 
story that you are innocent, and I will see 
the person who told me about it and let 
her know that there was a great mistake 
made when your name was connected 
with it.” 

Frank’s face brightened again. 


132 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

“Then you believe that I wasn’t with the 
others, do you ?” he asked earnestly. 

“Of course I do, Frank,” answered Mil- 
dred. “ I am perfectly willing to take your 
word in regard to the matter.” 

“ And you will tell Mr. Lyte too, won’t 
you, please?” said Frank. “I’d hate to 
have him think I would keep on doing any- 
thing like that when I was coming to church 
and prayer-meeting.” 

“Mr. Lyte heard the story this afternoon, 
Frank ; and shall I tell you what he said ?” 

“ Yes’m,” answered Frank. 

Mildred repeated her husband’s declara- 
tion that he was as sure of Frank’s inno- 
cence as he was of his own, and that he 
would not believe to the contrary unless 
Frank himself admitted it. 

“ Did he really say that ?” exclaimed the 
boy in delight. “ Mrs. Lyte, I don’t care 
now what anybody else says or thinks. I 
hope I will always deserve his good opin- 
ion, and I’m going to try mighty hard never 


FRANK^S TRIAL. 


133 


to do anything mean that I’ll be ashamed 
of. I was so miserable all day over this 
for fear you would both believe it and not 
have anything more to do with me, but it 
don’t bother me a bit now, only that I hope 
everybody else will believe I’m innocent 
too, so they won’t think Fm just pretend- 
ing to be a Christian. Good-bye and he 
went away with a heart considerably light- 
ened by the assurance that he had two firm 
friends who would not be likely to listen to 
and believe every story they heard to his 
discredit. 

Frank had hardly taken his departure 
before the gate opened and shut again, and 
a sound of footsteps came up the graveled 
walk. 

“ Mrs. Lyte, I’ve come to say good-bye 
to you,” exclaimed Charlie Percival. 

“Why, where are you going, Charlie?” 
asked Mildred in surprise, for she had not 
heard that the boy was going away. 

“ My uncle is going to take me out West 


134 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


with him, and we are going to start on the 
midnight train, so I have to hurry up to say 
good-bye to all my friends before I go.” 

“ Had you been expecting to go, or is it 
a sudden determination ?” asked Mildred, 
surprised at the boy's information. 

“Well, I’ve been wanting to go back with 
uncle ever since he came on, but I didn’t 
really expect mother would let me go, 
though I’ve been coaxing her to. She only 
gave in this afternoon, and she’s just flying 
around to get me ready. Father says it 
will be better for me to be there. He 
thinks I won’t find so much mischief to get 
into and the boy laughed. 

“ Charlie, may I ask you a question ?” 
said Mildred, looking at the frank face that 
seemed so innocent and almost childish. 

“ Certainly, Mrs. Lyte,” he responded. 

“ Charlie, have you been with those boys 
who have been drinking down on the river- 
bank in the evenings ?” 

Only a look at the boy’s face answered 


FJiANK^S TRIAL. 


135 


her as conclusively as words could have 
done. A great wave of crimson surged 
over his face, and he started with surprise. 

“Who told you about it, Mrs. Lyte?” 
he exclaimed. “ Did any one say I was 
there ?” 

“No one told me you were there, Char- 
lie, but you were, I am afraid.” 

“Yes,” the answer came, almost in a 
whisper, as his eyes sought the carpet. 

“ Charlie, you are going away. Will 
you not begin a new life in your new 
home, and not let the fresh page be 
blotted again by any such stain as this ?” 
pleaded Mildred, putting her hand affec- 
tionately on the boy’s shoulder. “ Does 
your mother know of this ?” 

“ No, but father does, and so he got her 
to let me go with uncle, so I would be out 
of the temptation,” answered Charlie. “ In- 
deed, I do mean to turn over a new leaf, 
Mrs. Lyte. I’ve been ashamed of myself 
all along, and it makes me feel worse than 


136 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

ever to think that you know it. Don’t think 
too hard of me, for I do mean to do just 
right after this. When I make up my mind 
to do a thing, I always carry it through, and 
I’ve made up my mind to do right, so you 
can depend upon it I will.” 

“ If you rely on your own strength you 
will surely fail, my dear boy,” said Mildred. 
“ Charlie, your own strength has failed you 
in the past; will you not go to God for 
strength in the future? Will you not 
take Christ with you into your new home 
and resolve to serve him ?” 

“ I’ll think about it, Mrs. Lyte,” said 
Charlie. “ It don’t come natural to a boy 
to think about such things, but indeed I will 
remember what you have said ; and you’ll 
forget about what I’ve done, will you not ? 
I’m awfully sorry and he put his hand in 
hers for a farewell clasp. 

“ Mr. Lyte will want to say good-bye to 
you too,” said Mildred ; and in response to 
her call her husband came down stairs. 


FRANK^S TRIAL. 


137 


Charlie felt that he had a warm place in 
the hearts of his two friends as he started 
off after the short earnest prayer and part- 
ing benediction with which his pastor bade 
him God-speed in his new life. 

Mildred’s affectionate counsel had sunk 
deeply into his heart, and, though it might 
be effaced from his memory for a time by 
new scenes and the excitement of his new 
life, it would never be wholly forgotten. 


CHAPTER X. 


FRED'S CONFESSION. 

ILDRED determined to see the boys 



IVJL as soon as possible and urge them 
to give up the evil habits which had con- 
quered them again, but early the next 
morning one of them came to her. 

“ Mrs. Lyte, I’ve come to own up to 
something bad,’' he said, twisting his hat 
about until it dropped from his hands and 
rolled away. 

“ I am glad you have come to own up, 
Fred, but I am sorry you have been doing 
something wrong,” answered Mildred. 

“Well, it isn’t only me — it’s the rest, of 
the boys too ; that is, all except Frank Har- 
ris ; he ain’t had nothing to do with it. We 
agreed that one of us should come and tell 


138 


FREDAS CONFESSION. 


139 


you about it, and Fm the one they sent. I 
hate to tell you, awful, Mrs. Lyte, for Fm 
afraid you won’t have anything to do with 
us again ; but we don’t mean to do it any 
more. You know we can’t get a glass of 
anything to drink at the pool-room any 
more, but one night we got a whole bot- 
tle of whisky between us, and went down 
on the bank in that clump of trees to drink 
it ; and we did it two or three times after 
that. We knew it wasn’t right, of course, 
but somehow we never really stopped to 
think much about it till last night, and 
then we got to thinking that you’d feel 
bad about it if you got to hear of it, and 
we allowed we’d quit right then and there ; 
so we pitched the old bottle in the river, 
Mrs. Lyte, won’t you forgive us? We’re 
awful sorry, all the fellows are, and won’t 
you trust us not to do it again ?” 

For a moment Mildred could not com- 
mand her voice, and her eyes filled with 
a mist of tears. 


140 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


Fred looked up, surprised at the silence, 
and saw the great tear-drops quivering on 
her lashes. 

“ Oh, don’t, Mrs. Lyte !” he exclaimed ; 
“don’t feel so bad about us! We ain’t 
worth caring that much for, but indeed 
we’ll never do nothing like that again. If 
we’d known how bad you’d feel, or, least- 
ways, if we had thought about it to begin 
with, we wouldn’t have touched a drop. 
Please don’t feel so bad.” 

“I believe I’m crying because I’m so 
glad, Fred,” answered Mildred, as two 
great drops splashed down upon the book 
in her lap ; and, seeing the boy’s look of 
wonder, she went on : “ Somebody came 
to me yesterday and told me about this, 
and I can’t tell you how badly I felt about 
it. I couldn’t bear to believe that you 
were going back to drinking again, and 
I thought you could not care very much 
about me if you would keep on doing 
something that you knew I wouldn’t like. 


FREDAS CONFESSION. 


I4I 

just because I didn’t know about it. And 
now I am so glad to know that you cared 
enough to stop doing wrong when you 
thought about it, and that you were brave 
enough to own up to it. You don’t know 
how much I care about you all. I do not 
think I could love you better if I were your 
sister ; and I do so want to help you to be- 
come good Christian men ! I can’t bear to 
have you throw yourselves away.” 

“We’ll try to be worth having you for 
a friend after this, Mrs. Lyte,” said Fred 
earnestly. “And I know none of the fel- 
lows will do anything to worry you again. 
Can I tell them you forgive us this 
time ?” 

“ Indeed I do, Fred, fully and freely,” 
said Mildred, giving the rough hand a 
warm clasp as the boy took his leave. 

It seemed to her as if their repentance 
more than atoned for their wrong-doing, 
and she realized with a feeling of deep 
thankfulness that a strong bond of affec- 


142 


THE BOYS OF FIVE ETON. 


tion united these boys to herself, and that 
she might yet have a powerful influence 
over them for good. 

Mildred was careful to call on Mrs. 
Lindsay at her earliest opportunity and 
correct that lady’s impression that Frank 
had been with the other boys. 

“ Oh, you needn’t have troubled your- 
self, Mrs. Lyte,” said that lady. “It 
doesn’t really make any difference.” 

“ Pardon me, but it does make a differ- 
ence,” said Mildred quietly, but firmly. 
“ Frank is trying to lead a consistent 
Christian life, and it is not right that he 
should be falsely accused when he is in- 
nocent.” 

If Mildred had thought that by proving 
Frank innocent she had cleared him in Mrs. 
Lindsay’s eyes, she was mistaken, for it was 
very evident that that lady regarded her as 
the victim of a mild delusion concerning 
Frank, and maintained her own opinion 
notwithstanding. 


FRED'S CONFESSION. 


143 


Mildred was a warm partisan when she 
espoused a cause, and it was hard work for 
her to keep from losing her temper when 
she failed utterly in her attempt to enlist 
Mrs. Lindsay’s sympathies in Frank’s be- 
half. 

Mildred herself was so rejoiced over 
Frank’s efforts to do right that it was 
hard for her to realize that but few others 
were interested in the boy. 

Some weeks later, on a quiet Sabbath 
morning, Frank publicly consecrated his 
young life to the Master and took the oath 
of allegiance to his King, and Mildred, as 
she bowed her head in grateful thanksgiv- 
ing, felt that her prayers for him had been 
abundantly answered. 

His father and mother were there that 
day, for the first time in many years, and 
they too were glad that their boy was tak- 
ing this step. Mildred had called on them 
the week before to ascertain their feelings 
on the subject, and she had been glad to 


144 


THE BOYS OF FIVE ETON'. 


find that there would be no stumbling- 
blocks intentionally placed in Frank’s path. 

The mother, a pale, tired-looking little 
woman, greeted Mildred with a hearty 
welcome. 

“ Mrs. Lyte, I can’t thank you enough 
for what you’ve done for my Frank,” she 
said as soon as the boy’s name was men- 
tioned. “ And I can’t tell you how glad his 
father and I are that he’s going to join the 
church and lead a good life. We ain’t re- 
ligious people, and we don’t go to church, 
but we’ll help Frank all we can, and he’ll 
never find anything to lead him wrong, after 
this, at home. You see, his father works 
all the week, so he’s so tired by the time 
Sunday comes that he’s glad enough to lie 
around and rest, and if there’s one day of 
the week that I have to work harder than 
others, it’s Sunday, because I have a hot 
dinner to get ; and then we generally have 
company. But I’m glad to see Frank go- 
ing so steady. He said this morning he’d 


FIXED'S CONFESSION. 


145 


never be satisfied till me and his father 
went with him too ; and he’s mighty deter- 
mined, Frank is, when he sets his mind on 
anything, so I expect it will end up some 
time in our all going together.” 

Mildred secured her promise that she 
would surely be present with her husband 
on the following Sabbath, for she thought 
that the solemn and impressive commu- 
nion-service could not fail to touch their 
hearts. 

“ I think the first work I have to do for 
the Lord will be right at home,” Frank said 
thoughtfully. “ I want poor mother to be a 
Christian, for I think she would be so much 
happier if she had something better to 
think about than working so hard all the 
time. I am going to pray ever so hard for 
her and father, and perhaps the Lord will 
answer my prayers for them just the way 
he answered your prayers for me.” 

Mildred hoped that Frank would have a 
powerful influence for good over the other 
10 


146 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

boys, because he was so outspoken in the 
avowal of his new determination. 

Mildred had not thought that the boy 
possessed so much sturdy independence 
and strength of character, but no amount 
of ridicule or persuasion could lead him 
to do anything that he considered wrong ; 
and when the others realized this they 
could not but respect his strength of 
purpose. 

To each one of them Mildred had borne 
her message, tenderly and lovingly urged, 
but it had not been heeded. True, the 
boys had listened to her respectfully, and 
some of them had even been touched at 
the thought that her anxiety for their eter- 
nal welfare was so great; but they were 
not aroused from their indifference. 

It was a source of great comfort to Mil- 
dred to realize that she had an all-powerful 
Friend to help her, and that she needed not 
to rely upon her own weak strength. She 
would have given up in despair oftentimes 


FRED'S CONFESSION. 


147 


had she not realized that all things are pos- 
sible with God, and that he is ever ready 
to bend a listening ear when his children 
call. 

In the arms of her loving faith she bore 
these boys, whom she had grown to love 
so dearly, before the throne of grace, ask- 
ing for them those blessings of which as 
yet they did not feel their own need. In 
God’s own time she felt assured that her 
prayers would be answered, and she tried 
to school herself to patience. 

Frank’s Christian life grew stronger with 
each day, and his greatest desire was to 
consecrate himself wholly and entirely to 
the Master’s service and engage in some 
active work for him. He made faithful 
efforts to induce his father and mother to 
come to church with him, but he was not 
always successful. Once in a while his 
father would reluctantly accompany him, 
and the boy’s joyful face would show his 
happiness ; but as a general thing he came 


148 THE BOYS OF FI FEB TON. 

alone or accompanied by Dick, who never 
failed to be in his seat when the bell rane 
its summons, that he might obtain a look 
of approval from Mildred. 


CHAPTER XI. 


BAR VEST-TIME. 



HE summer slowly wore away and 


-1 the autumn days came and went. 
The first snow of winter had fallen and 
wrapped old Mother Earth in its pure 
mantle, and Mildred realized that almost 
a year had sped away since she first 
began her work among the boys. 

What had she accomplished? The re- 
sults of her work seemed meagre enough 
when she looked at the little good that 
had actually been accomplished, but yet 
it was not altogether a discouraging sur- 
vey. She had gained an influence over 
the boys by her persistent kindness and 
affection, and she knew that that was a 
great point reached in her work; in fact, 


149 


150 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

it was the very foundation upon which 
everything else had to be built. 

They had improved greatly in many 
ways, and they began to be conscious of 
a certain manliness and self-respect which 
their continual intercourse with a lady 
had called into existence. They were 
growing to realize that their ignorance 
was a drawback to them in many ways, 
and instead of being indifferent to it, as 
they had been hitherto, they began to feel 
for knowledge a desire which gladdened 
Mildred’s heart. 

The weekly meetings of the society 
were gaining in interest as more of its 
members exerted themselves to take part 
in them, and the shyness which had been 
painfully embarrassing to some of the boys 
at first was a thing of the past. They had 
gained self-possession and ease of manner 
by constant practice, and in the debates, 
which were generally upon simple ques- 
tions in which all were interested, the nat- 


HARVEST-TIME. 


151 

ural shrewdness of some of the boys made 
up for their lack of education, and the dis- 
cussions were animated enough to be very 
interesting. 

The encyclopaedias, which had long stood 
undisturbed 'upon their shelf, were fre- 
quently called into use as the boys turned 
to them for information on the subjects 
which were weekly assigned to certain 
members, and the preparation of answers 
to referred questions was unconsciously in- 
creasing their fund of general information. 

There was much to rejoice over, although 
their progress had not been all that Mildred 
could have desired ; still, her love for them 
made her patient with their faults, while she 
hoped for greater things in the future. 

Mr. Lyte believed that the time had 
come for a season of special effort in the 
church, and Mildred rejoiced over his de- 
termination to deepen if possible the inter- 
est which was beginning to be manifested 
by those who hitherto had been indifferent. 


152 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


Naturally, her first thought was of her boys, 
and she earnestly hoped that a deep and 
lasting impression might be made on their 
young hearts. She secured their promise 
to attend the meetings regularly, and, as 
this was the first favor she had asked of 
them, they were very willing to accede to 
it, although to many of them it seemed 
like a great sacrifice to spend their even- 
ings regularly at church instead of in the 
pleasant reading-room. 

If Mr. Lyte had been less in earnest, and 
had not been so thoroughly convinced that 
many were on the verge of decision for 
Christ, he would have been thoroughly dis- 
couraged at the end of the first week. To 
begin with, the weather had been most un- 
propitious. A heavy snowstorm had fallen 
during the first two days, that made the 
roads wellnigh impassable, and only those 
living near the church ventured out through 
the drifts. The snow stopped falling on Tues- 
day afternoon, and a little army of men 



Clearing away the Snow 


Page 153 



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HA/? VEST- TIME. 


153 


and boys set to work at once to cut out 
pathways through the drifts. 

Mildred stood by her window looking at 
the snow that was banked up against the 
gate, and wondering how she could make 
her way through it a few hours later when 
church-time should arrive. Presently she 
saw some boys making their way along 
with their snow-shovels on their shoulders, 
and as soon as they came near enough for 
her to distinguish their faces she guessed 
their destination. 

There was no more question as to how 
she should make her way over to the 
church, for the boys set to work with a 
hearty good-will and cut out paths around 
the house and across the street, pausing 
in their work now and then to snowball 
each other or tumble into the walls of snow 
that they had banked up on either side of 
the path. 

They were cold and tired, and ready to 
enjoy the hot coffee that Mildred had in 


154 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


readiness for them when their task was 
completed. Their thoughtfulness for her 
comfort delighted her no less than the 
prospect of a comfortable walk to church, 
and she thanked them warmly for their 
remembrance. 

Only a score of people besides the boys 
comprised the congregation that night, but 
the small audience in no wise discouraged 
Mr. Lyte, for there was much work to be 
done even among those few. 

No visible results had been accomplished 
by the close of the week, although each 
evening Mr. Lyte had made tender, earn- 
est appeals that he had thought must sure- 
ly reach some heart. If any were im- 
pressed, they hid it behind a mask of in- 
difference, and none responded to the 
invitation to meet the pastor afterward 
and converse with him. 

Sunday evening the usual service was 
held, and then those who were already 
Christians were asked to remain to a con- 


HARVEST- TIME. 


155 


secration service, after the others had gone. 
For the first time in their lives many of 
those who had long since professed their 
love for Christ realized that a responsi- 
bility rested upon them, and that they had 
work to do in the Master’s vineyard. 

At the conclusion of Mr. Lyte’s earnest 
appeal to them to enlist in active service 
and seek to wrest a blessing from the 
Lord, not only by prayer, but by earnest 
personal appeal to those of their friends 
who were yet far from the kingdom, a 
solemn silence followed as they conse- 
crated themselves anew to their Saviour 
and resolved to bear the message of sal- 
vation to some poor heart that as yet was 
without Christ. 

That evening marked the first awaken- 
ing of spiritual interest in the church. A 
prayer-meeting was announced for every 
afternoon, that the Christians might meet 
together and unitedly beseech God’s bless- 
ing in the efforts that were being made 


156 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

for the salvation of souls ; and many a 
heart that had grown cold and indifferent 
burned with a newly-awakened love to 
Christ. 

The church at Riverton had been spirit- 
ually “ dead ” for many years, and if there 
was any life in it, it was lying dormant and 
was, to all intents and purposes, extinct. 
During the three years of Mr. Lyte’s min- 
istry he had tried in vain to break the leth- 
argy in which the church seemed to be 
wrapped. It was his first charge, and he 
had brought to it a heart overflowing with 
love for his work and an earnest zeal that 
he thought must accomplish some work 
for the Master to whom he had given 
his life. 

He had come from his study to the pul- 
pit, his heart burning within him, from 
sweet communion with the Lord, and 
only indifference or inattention had met 
his impassioned earnestness, and, though 
Sunday after Sunday he had tried to send 


I/A VEST- TIME. 


157 


an arrow of conviction home to some heart, 
the shield of indifference had made it glance 
aside. If he made a momentary impression 
on some mind, it was dissipated by the care- 
less talk which went on around the church- 
doors after service, and the good seed was 
choked by thorns before it had time to 
spring up and bear fruit. It was a dis- 
couraging field, and oftentimes Mr. Lyte 
felt like giving up the work, that some 
one else might do the good he seemed 
powerless to accomplish. 

There had been some things to encour- 
age him of late, and he thought if he could 
fix the serious impression that one sermon 
would make by continuing the services 
until the impression had become perma- 
nent, many a soul might be brought to 
decide for Christ. 

He knew that he had enlisted an army 
of active workers to help him in his pur- 
pose when at the close of the consecration 
service he saw in many faces a new expres- 


158 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

sion of earnestness and love, and many a 
hand met his in a warm clasp as he re- 
ceived assurances of sympathy and aid. 
The first drops of the reviving shower of 
grace had fallen, and it encouraged his 
heart. 

The weather still continued unpropitious, 
but the roads were passable, and increasing 
earnestness was shown by the large audi- 
ence present every evening, venturing out 
through the sleet or piercing winds. 

Every afternoon a little band met to- 
gether to pray for friends and relatives 
whose hearts were as yet untouched, and 
the knowledge that loving prayer was 
being daily offered for them made many 
begin to think for themselves whether they 
could longer afford to neglect this great 
salvation which others so earnestly desired 
them to have. 

There was no doubt but that many a 
heart had been deeply moved, and that 
the Spirit was striving with them to yield 


HARVEST-TIME, 


159 


to the Saviour; but none gave any visible 
sign of their feelings, and, tl^ugh Mr. Lyte 
visited many at their own homes and be- 
sought them to resist the gracious influ- 
ences no longer, he could not win from 
them the admission that they longed to 
decide the question which was nightly 
brought before their consideration. 

The second week came slowly to a close 
without any visible results from the earnest 
work of so many days. Mildred had sent 
for each of the boys, and once more earn- 
estly pleaded with them to delay no longer; 
but, though some impression had been 
made upon them by the solemn services, 
it had not been deep enough to result in 
any definite action. 

At the close of the last meeting Mr. 
Lyte asked all present to bow their heads 
in silent prayer, while any who desired the 
prayers of God’s people and felt the need 
of a personal Saviour should signify it by 
rising. 


i6o 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


A solemn silence pervaded the little as- 
sembly, and for a brief space there was no 
sound, while hearts went up in earnest sup- 
plication that some loved one might find 
strength to take this first step toward 
Christ. 

“ Whoso confesseth me before men, him 
will I confess before my Father which is in 
heaven.” The words were an invitation 
that seemed irresistible, and full of plead- 
ing was Mr. Lyte’s voice as he broke the 
stillness. 

There was a movement in the back part 
of the room, and Mildred knew that some 
soul had started Zionward, even before Mr. 
Lyte began his prayer of thanksgiving over 
the lost which was found, and of entreaty 
that strength might be given to persevere 
in this new path. 

As the congregation dispersed after the 
benediction Mildred saw Fred Norris sit- 
ting with bowed head, and she knew that 
he had yielded to the Saviour. 


HARVEST-TIME. l6l 

Frank sat beside him, his face radiant 
with joy, and as Mildred passed down the 
aisle and reached the pew where the two 
boys were seated Frank said eagerly, 

“ Fred is going to be a Christian too. 
Oh, Mrs. Lyte, aren’t you glad?” 

Fred looked up, his face working with 
emotion that he did not try to repress, and 
as Mildred put her hand on his shoulder 
and told him how glad she was, the tears 
coursed down his cheeks and he could not 
speak, though he tried to answer. 

Mildred’s heart sang a joyful paean of 
thanksgiving as she went home alone, leav- 
ing her husband engaged in conversation 
with the boys. Another of her boys had 
accepted Christ, and if any could have 
understood her yearning love for these 
boys whom she had borne upon her 
heart so long, they could have better un- 
derstood her joy and gratitude. 

As she heard her husband’s quick step 
coming over the crisp snow she sprang to 
11 


1 62 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

the door to open it for him, and a glad 
smile shone through the tears that would 
come, happy though she was. 

“I know how glad your heart is over 
your boys, dearest,” he said as he put his 
arm around her and drew her closely to 
him. “This was no sudden determination 
of Fred’s, but he says that he has been 
thinking about it for some time, and wanted 
to be very sure that he was in earnest be- 
fore he took any step, so I do not think he 
will ever want to draw back now. He has 
made a whole-souled surrender of himself 
to Christ, and his only grief is that he has 
so long held back from the offers of salva- 
tion. I learned, too, to-night that Frank has 
had a great deal to do with Fred’s decis- 
ion. Frank chose him for a special object 
of prayer at our consecration service last 
Sunday, and he has left no stone unturned 
to make him feel the necessity of deciding 
for Christ and the happiness and peace that 
there is in a Christian life. That is an ad- 


HARVEST-TIME. 


163 


ditional cause for thankfulness, to think 
that Frank has begun so early to work for 
the Lord and has been so earnest in his 
efforts to bring some other soul to the Sa- 
viour. His joy over Fred was touching, 
and I doubt if he was happier when he 
became a Christian himself than to-night 
when he rejoiced over his friend.” 

“This is only the beginning of the har- 
vest,” said Mildred. “ I was so afraid you 
would be discouraged to-night when there 
seemed to be so little result from all these 
efforts ; but I am sure that there is a great 
blessing yet in store for us.” 

“ I have no room in my heart for discour- 
agement,” answered her husband. “It 
would have been worth all this work to 
have started just that one young soul on 
the heavenward road, and I know that there 
are others just on the verge of decision. 
No, there is great occasion for thanksgiv- 
ing, but none for discouragement.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


AJV ANSWERED PEA YER. 

O N Monday morning Mildred remem- 
bered that one of the boys had been 
away when she had sent for the others, and 
she had never had any conversation with 
him on the subject which now so completely 
filled her heart. She knew he was at leis- 
ure after four o’clock, and she sent him a 
little note asking him to call and see her 
at that time. 

It was very hard for Mildred to speak of 
the things she cared most for, even to these 
boys whom she so dearly loved. The more 
her heart was overflowing with love to 
Christ, and the more she longed to urge 
some one else to come to him, the more 
completely her lips seemed to be sealed, 

and when, by a mighty effort, she broke 
161 


AN ANSH^ERED PRAYEI^. 1 65 

this seal her words seemed so cold and 
lifeless that she could not hope they would 
do much good. 

Mildred often wondered at this strange 
reluctance, and mourned bitterly over it, 
but the fact remained that nothing else 
ever cost her half the effort and self-sac- 
rifice that a few words spoken for Jesus 
did. And it was not because she did not 
love him. She tried to consecrate each 
day and hour of her life to his service, 
and to glorify the simplest acts by doing 
them for him ; and yet the laggard words 
would not come when she wanted to tell 
some one else how joyful his service was 
and how light his yoke. 

She did not feel that she had become as 
well acquainted with Ike as with some of 
the other boys, so her task of speaking to 
him seemed all the harder. But while she 
was anticipating the interview with nervous 
reluctance she remembered that there was 
one thing that would be infinitely harder 


1 66 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

than speaking to him of her hope for him. 
Suppose her lips were sealed and she was 
not allowed to tell him of the Saviour’s 
love ? How heavy a cross the silence 
would be ! — almost too heavy to be borne. 

The task of speaking seemed lighter as 
she remembered that it was a high privi- 
lege as well as a duty, and very often dur- 
ing the day her heart was uplifted in earn- 
est prayer that she might have wisdom to 
choose her words aright, and that they 
might be blessed. 

The early winter twilight was already 
gathering when the door-bell rang, and Ike 
was admitted. 

Mildred welcomed him cordially. 

“ Do you know what I want to see you 
about?” she asked. 

“Yes’m,” answered Ike shyly, with a 
boy’s reluctance to speak of sacred things 
showing itself in his voice and manner. 

“ Ike, are you thinking about being a 
Christian ?” Mildred asked, wishing that 


AN ANSWERED PRAYER. l6j 

her words would come without so much 
effort. 

“I don’t know,” murmured Ike, studying 
the pattern of the carpet intently. 

“ Don’t you want to be one ?” she asked. 

Ike looked up with sudden interest. 

“Well, that’s just what bothers me, Mrs. 
Lyte,” he answered frankly. “ Now, I’ll 
tell you just how it is with me : sometimes 
I feel as if I wanted to be a Christian so 
bad that I can’t keep from it any longer — 
that’s at night and when I’m in church that 
I feel that way — and the rest of the time I 
don’t want to be one a bit. I’d a heap 
rather be just what I am ; and that’s the 
truth. I’m sort of scared not to be a bet- 
ter boy ; and yet what’s the use of my try- 
ing, for I couldn’t keep it up, nohow?” 

“Why couldn’t you?” asked Mildred. 

“Well, for one thing, I go off fishing 
every spring, you know, and I’m in with 
an awful hard set of men. You ain’t got 
no idea at all what a rough lot they are, 


68 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


Mrs. Lyte, and I couldn't begin to tell you. 
Swearing’s nothing to them, and they drink 
and fight and are up to everything bad.” 

“ I should think that would be the very 
place where you would most need the Lord 
for your friend,” answered Mildred. 

“ But I couldn’t be good there, with 
everything bad around me,” insisted Ike. 

“ I know you couldn’t in your own 
strength, my dear boy,” said Mildred. 
“ But if you were a Christian you would 
have somebody to help you all the time, 
and God would give you grace to live as 
a Christian should, even if you were con- 
tinually tempted to do wrong.” 

“ But I don’t feel as if I wanted to be a 
Christian, only sometimes,” said Ike. 

“Suppose you pray about it, and ask 
God to help you want to be a Christian ?” 
answered Mildred. “ Do you ever pray, 
Ike?” 

“ No’m ; I don’t know how,” answered 


Ike. 


AN ANSWERED PRAYER. 1 69 

“Just kneel down when you go home 
and tell God, as simply as you have told 
me, all about it. Tell him how you want 
to be a Christian sometimes, and don’t at 
other times, and ask him to fill your heart 
so full of love to him that you will always 
want to be his own.” 

Ike was silent. 

“ Will you not do this ?” asked Mildred. 

Ike shook his head. 

“ I wouldn’t know how to go about it, 
Mrs. Lyte,” he answered presently. “It 
sounds simple enough, but, you see, I ain’t 
never prayed, and I shouldn’t know if I was 
right or not.” 

Mildred sat in silent thought for a few 
moments. If she could only say, 

“ Ike, let us kneel down here and I will 
tell God about it” ! but that seemed a well- 
nigh impossible thing just then. 

Mildred had never prayed aloud before 
any one, and the very thought of such a 
thing terrified her. She fancied that her 


170 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


voice would fail her and the words refuse 
to come if she attemped it, and she shrank 
involuntarily from the task. But her per- 
sistent conscience would not accept any 
excuse ; it goaded her remorselessly for- 
ward. 

“ Dare you refuse ?” it said to her. 
“ Will you let self stand in the way when 
you may accomplish good? Yes, it will 
be hard, but can you not take up this 
cross and bear it for Christ’s sake ?” 

She dared not take time for further 
thought. Ike might consider the inter- 
view over and start to go ; her reluct- 
ance might overcome her if she paused 
to listen to its promptings ; so she spoke 
hurriedly : 

“ Ike, will you let me tell God about it 
for you ? Shall we have a little prayer 
together now?” 

Ike did not answer, but he followed her 
example as she knelt down beside her 
chair. How thankful she was for the 


AN ANSWERED FRA YER. 1 7 1 

gathering shadows which made the light 
in the room seem so dim and uncertain ! 
An earnest cry for help to take up this 
cross went up to her Father from the 
very depths of her heart; then her fal- 
tering voice broke the silence. 

A very simple little prayer it was — just 
the story of Ike’s temptations in very 
nearly his own language, and an earnest 
entreaty that he might be led to the 
Saviour. 

Not a hard thing, some may think, but 
if there are any, like Mildred, who shrink 
from such a task, they may appreciate the 
great effort it required, and they will not 
wonder that her voice fluttered painfully 
and could scarcely be controlled. 

When they rose from their knees Ike did 
not speak ; seizing his hat, he left the room 
with an averted face, and Mildred did not 
seek to detain him. 

Her work had been done, but so feebly, 
so poorly, that she thought it might better 


72 


THE BOYS OF FIVER TON. 


have been left undone. But Jesus knew 
the sacrifice it had cost, and he could use 
her poor little effort, since it had been 
made for him. 

A little later Frank came, accompanied 
by Fred. 

“ Mrs. Lyte, Fve thought of something 
we can do,” said Frank joyfully. “ Don’t 
you think it would be nice if just we three 
had a little prayer-meeting this evening 
before church-time? We could pick out 
one of the boys and pray hard just for 
him ; then when he was a Christian he 
could come and help us pray for some 
one else. Don’t you remember that 
verse that says, ‘ Where two or three 
are assembled’? We would really be 
just three, and I’m sure God would listen 
to us. Can we have a prayer-meeting to- 
night ?” 

“With all my heart, Frank!” answered 
Mildred, pleased at the boy’s thought ; and 
the two boys agreed to return to her when 


AN ANSWERED PRAYER. 1 73 

the bell rang its first summons, so that 
they could have half an hour for the 
meeting. 

Mildred sighed as the door closed be- 
hind them. Nothing could have delighted 
her more than to have these two boys 
come of their own accord to suggest 
praying for their companions, and yet — 
she blushed to think that any thought of 
self should obtrude — yet here was another 
cross to be borne, only doubly hard this 
time. 

She took up her Bible to look out some 
assurances of answered prayer to read to 
the boys. The fourteenth and fifteenth 
chapters of John abounded in them, and 
she lightly penciled the verses that she 
might readily turn to them. Her nervous 
fingers rolled the page and creased it un- 
consciously as she sat there trying to gain 
strength for the duties that lay in her path. 
Months and years afterward, whenever she 
opened her Bible, that page, defaced by 


1/4 the boys of RIVERTON. 

pencil-marks and restless fingers, brought 
back that afternoon to her mind. 

With the first stroke of the bell the boys 
came, and when Mildred went into the par- 
lor she was glad that the light was turned 
low, that the boys might not notice her em- 
barrassment and her burning cheeks. 

A memory came to her of another even- 
ing when she had dreaded entering that 
room because she feared failure in her 
efforts to please the boys and win their 
friendship. How graciously her prayers 
had been answered since then ! Surely 
she could trust the Lord to give her 
strength in time of need. 

When Frank had proposed the prayer- 
meeting he had not realized that it would 
cost him any effort, and not until the time 
had come did it occur to him. 

“ Have you chosen one of the boys as 
a special subject for prayer?” asked Mil- 
dred as she seated herself and opened her 
Bible. 


AJV ANSWERED FRA YER. 


175 


“Let’s take Ike Campbell,” answered 
Frank. 

“ I will read a few verses,” said Mildred, 
“and then we will each pray for him.” 

“ I don’t believe I can, Mrs. Lyte,” said 
Frank nervously. 

“We will unite in silent prayer, then,” 
said Mildred. “ It will be hard for us to 
pray before each other — just as hard for 
me as for you — but let us try and make 
the effort.” 

She read the verses with their promises 
that no prayer arises to the throne of grace 
unheeded, and then, bowing her head, she 
prayed. The effort cost her as much self- 
sacrifice as it had in the afternoon, and once 
tears choked her utterance for a moment as 
she realized the greatness of the boon for 
which she entreated — a soul’s salvation. 

Not one of those three will ever forget 
the tender solemnity of that little meeting. 
There was silence for a time after Mildred’s 
voice died away, and it was Fred who next 


176 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

broke the hush. He prayed earnestly and 
with his whole heart in boyish phrases, now 
and then broken by a sob as he entreated 
for this friend the forgiveness he had ob- 
tained himself. The silence that came after 
he had finished seemed to voice the prayers 
of those three hearts. Frank essayed to 
speak, but he could only control his feel- 
ings long enough to utter one short pe- 
tition. 

The chiming of the bell broke the still- 
ness, and they knew it was time to close 
the little meeting and go over to the 
church, where a large congregation had 
already gathered. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


MATT. 

M ildred tried in vain to induce Mrs. 

Ellis to attend these evening serv- 
ices, although she visited her almost daily 
and begged her as a personal favor to do 
so. The only hope of influencing her was 
through Dick. The boy was a source of 
great anxiety just now to Mildred. He 
came regularly to church every evening, 
but nothing seemed to touch his heart or 
appeal to his conscience, and Mildred 
scarcely dared tell him how she longed to 
have him become a Christian, lest in some 
way he should get the idea that rising for 
prayer would make him one, and so to 
please her would do that without any com- 
prehension of its real significance. She 
could only wait and pray that God would 

12 177 


178 THE BOYS OF BJ FEB TOM 

send some ray of light that would guide 
him in the right path. 

That Monday night with its impressive 
services seemed to bring to the point of 
decision many who had been wavering for 
some time. In the tender after-meeting, 
when Mr. Lyte again made the request 
that those who felt their need of a Saviour 
would rise, fifteen arose, while smothered 
sobs told of the deep emotion which pre- 
vailed. 

Ike Campbell was among the number, 
and when Mildred had passed out of the 
church she found Fred and Frank waiting 
for her with faces beaming with happiness. 

“ Didn’t the Lord answer our prayers 
soon ?” exclaimed Fred joyfully ; and Frank 
chimed in : 

“Fm so glad I don’t know how to be 
thankful enough, Mrs. Lyte.” 

The next evening, when the boys came 
for their prayer-meeting, Ike was with 
them, and they chose two more of their 


MATT. 


179 


companions whose hearts as yet were un- 
touched as subjects for their prayers. This 
time it was easier for Mildred to pray, and 
the little meeting was a very tender one as 
the two absent boys were remembered in. 
earnest supplication. 

Every evening they met, their numbers 
steadily increasing as one after another 
yielded to the Spirit working in their 
hearts, and as each one felt the joy of 
sins forgiven, he was eager to bring his 
friends to the Saviour. 

At last Frank had succeeded in per- 
suading his father and mother to come to 
church, and each night he hoped and 
prayed that they might be among the 
number who would come to a decision 
and take the first public step by rising for 
prayer. Their hearts had been deeply 
touched, and Frank’s entreaties made it 
hard for them longer to resist. 

There was one boy in town, with whom 
Mildred was on friendly terms, who did not 


i8o 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


mingle with the reading-room boys, or, in 
fact, with any other company. Matt Hardy 
was a poor half-witted boy who was but 
just shrewd enough to hold his own if any 
one persecuted or annoyed him. His usual 
gait was an odd shambling run, and it 
needed but a glance at his vacant face 
and dull eyes to assure one that he was 
deficient in intellect. 

He was mischievous and tricky, as well 
as cruel to anything weaker or smaller than 
himself, and all the little children in town 
feared him and avoided him. Matt seemed 
rather to enjoy the terror he inspired, and 
lost no opportunity of proving that it was 
well founded. 

Mildred was sorry for the boy, whose 
own evil disposition had made him friend- 
less, and she always took pains to greet 
him pleasantly when she met him, though 
once, when she had interfered with his 
sport of tormenting a frightened child, 
she had remonstrated gently with him, in- 


MATT. 


l8l 


Stead of scolding and threatening him as 
most people did. 

Mildred often wondered whether the 
light of the gospel could not shed its 
rays into this poor mind, darkened as it^ 
was ; but she found it hard to get an op- 
portunity to speak to Matt, except in a 
brief greeting as he went past her on the 
street with his shambling trot. 

One evening as she was walking over to 
church she found him standing on the cor- 
ner watching the people that were going 
past, now and then calling after some boy. 
Mildred determined to avail herself of this 
opportunity. 

“ Matt,” she said gently, laying her 
hand on his arm to attract his attention, 
— “ Matt, will you not come into church 
this evening?” 

Matt looked at her without speaking for 
a moment, a vacant smile on his features. 

“What for?” he asked. “The fellows 
won’t let me sit by them.” 


i 82 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


“You shall sit with me,” she answered 
promptly. “ Do come in, Matt.” 

Still the boy hesitated. He was some- 
what curious to see what was going on in 
the church and what brought so many peo- 
ple there night after night, yet he had a 
prejudice against going to church. 

“Ain’t got no book,” he objected pres- 
ently, though, as he could not read, a book 
was an unnecessary convenience. 

“You can share my book,” answered 
Mildred. “It is time to go in now; the 
bell has stopped ringing. Come ;” and 
she gently drew him with her into the 
church. 

Many a wondering glance followed the 
two as they walked up the aisle, for no 
one had ever seen Matt in church before. 
Some were fearful that he would not be- 
have himself, but these fears were need- 
less, for he never moved after he seated 
himself beside Mildred, though his eyes 
roved restlessly around. He seemed to 


MATT. 183 

enjoy the singing, though he made no ef- 
fort to join in it. 

Mildred wondered how much of the 
meaning of what he heard penetrated 
into his darkened brain. His face was 
dull and emotionless, and Mildred re- 
solved to have a little talk with him after 
church if she could contrive to keep him 
a little while. 

“ Matt,” she said as they walked out of 
church together, “ will you come over and 
stay with me till Mr. Lyte comes home ? 
I shall be all alone.” 

“Afraid?” asked Matt. “Fm never 
afraid, I ain’t. I go out in the night and 
I’m never afraid. Silly to be afraid and 
his face wore a meaningless smile again. 

“ Come over. Matt,” she urged ; and 
the boy walked beside her till she reached 
the house. She thought perhaps he might 
dart away while she was opening the door, 
for it was characteristic of Matt to follow 
his inclinations just as they occurred to 


1 84 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON, 

him ; but he went in without evincing 
any desire to escape. 

“What did they stand up for?’' he asked 
suddenly, pointing over his shoulder in the 
direction of the church. 

“They did that to show that they are 
going to be Christians,” answered Mil- 
dred ; and then she went on to explain 
in the simplest possible language what it 
meant to be a Christian. Just how far 
Matt’s powers of comprehension carried 
him she did not know, but he seemed in- 
terested, and now and then asked a ques- 
tion, which was an encouraging sign. 

“ Do you want to be a Christian, Matt ?” 
she asked. 

“Yes, Matt wants to be one,” he an- 
swered. 

Mildred taught him a simple little prayer, 
and then, kneeling down, prayed for him 
by name, pausing after each petition that 
Matt might have time to understand her 


meaning. 


MATT. 185 

She wondered whether her words had 
really made any lasting impression as she 
bade Matt good-night, and she prayed that 
the path might be made very plain and 
straight before him. 

She met him the next morning, and he 
paused for a moment, contrary to his usual 
custom, and exclaimed, 

“ I’m going to be one ?” 

“Going to be what?” asked Mildred en- 
couragingly. 

“ Going to be a Christian. I said my 
prayer last night, and I said it this morn- 
ing. I wasn’t bad to-day, either. I took 
a dog out of the water and before Mil- 
dred could answer he was off again. 

A queer speech to bring such a bright 
look to Mildred’s face, but, knowing the 
boy as well as she did, she felt as if the 
meaning of her words to him the evening 
before had sunk into his heart and lodged 
there. 

She had explained to him in language 


1 86 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

that she thought his dull brain would com- 
prehend that if he meant to love Jesus and 
please him he must not be cruel any more, 
and, knowing how much pleasure he took 
in cruel mischief, she appreciated that he 
had really made a sacrifice when he rescued 
the dog instead of enjoying his struggles. 

That evening, when she was ready to 
start for church, she found Matt seated on 
the porch waiting for her to come out. 

“ I’m going,” he said as she started with 
surprise at his sudden appearance. 

'T’m glad to hear that,” she said cor- 
dially ; and they went over to the church 
together. 

Matt was quiet during the service, but as 
soon as the after-meeting began he grew 
so restless, and seemed to be so anxiously 
waiting for something, that his movements 
disturbed those sitting near him, and Mil- 
dred had serious doubts whether it had 
been a very wise plan to bring him to 
church, where there was so little said that 


MATT. 


187 


he could understand, and where his rest- 
lessness would distract other people’s at- 
tention. 

At last she found what he had been 
waiting for. As soon as Mr. Lyte made 
his usual request to those who were per- 
sonally interested, he sprang to his feet, 
without waiting for the congregation to 
bow their heads in prayer. 

Mr. Lyte looked surprised, for, though 
Mildred had told him of her conversation 
with Matt that morning, he did not feel 
sure that the boy knew just what he was 
doing when he stood up with those who 
rose for prayer. He could not find out 
anything from Matt when he lingered in his 
seat after the congregation had gone out. 

“Well, my boy,” he said kindly, “what 
did you stand up for to-night?” 

“Ask her,” said Matt, pointing over his 
shoulder with his thumb ; “ she’ll tell you.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Lyte will tell me, but I want 
you to tell me too,” said Mr. Lyte, humor- 


1 88 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

ing the boy. “ Did you stand up because 
you wanted to be a Christian ?” 

Matt nodded triumphantly, as he found 
that Mr. Lyte had put this construction on 
his action, but he did not say anything ex- 
cept as before, 

“ She’ll tell you ; she knows.” 

There were others waiting to see the 
minister, so after a moment’s puzzled 
thought he said, 

“ Suppose you go over now and have a 
little talk with Mrs. Lyte till I come home.” 

Matt looked satisfied with this proposal, 
and presently he came to the door and 
gave the door-bell such a vigorous pull 
that Mildred started from her reverie and 
sprang hastily to open the door. 

“ He sent me over,” said Matt. “ He 
can’t understand nothing, and I told him 
you would tell him. I’m to wait for him 
to come.” 

“All right. Matt; I’m glad to see you. 
Come in and sit down,” said Mildred, 


MATT. 


189 


offering him a chair. “What made you 
come to church to-night?” she asked 
presently, watching the boy’s vacant face. 

“I wanted to be a Christian,” the boy 
answered promptly. 

“Why?” asked Mildred, trying to see 
how much the boy understood of what 
she had tried to teach him. 

“ So I’ll go up there when I die,” Matt 
answered, making an upward gesture. 

“ How can you be a Christian ?” queried 
Mildred. 

“If I’m good and don’t plague, and if I 
love Jesus.” 

“ Do you love Jesus?” asked Mildred. 

“Yes. He died for Matt, so Matt loves 
him and there was no doubt that the idea 
was firmly roote'd in the boy’s mind. 

“Then why did you stand up to-night?” 
Mildred went on. 

“ So everybody pray for Matt to be a 
good boy — never cruel any more. Matt’s 
going to be good now.” 


1 90 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

Mildred was thoroughly convinced that 
the poor brain had grasped this one idea 
intelligently, and that in his own way 
Matt was indeed going to lead a Chris- 
tian life. 

When Mr. Lyte came in and talked to 
Matt — or rather when Mildred repeated 
her question, for Matt really would talk 
to no one else — he was quite satisfied 
that the boy had had a definite purpose 
in rising for prayer, and that it had not 
been merely a whim of his disordered 
fancy. 

“ I could scarcely have conceived it pos- 
sible to give that boy any idea of even 
right and wrong,” Mr. Lyte said after 
Matt had gone. “You must have had a 
great deal of patience, Mildred, to explain 
so simply that he could understand it what 
it meant to be a Christian.” 

“I did not think I had succeeded,” an- 
swered Mildred, “but from what he said 
this morning I was very hopeful that at 


MATT. 


I9I 

least a glimmering of the light had broken 
in on the darkness. Poor fellow ! if he 
lives up to the little light he has, it will 
make a great difference in him, for he has 
been so cruel and quarrelsome that the 
little children are actually afraid to pass 
him.” 

When Matt once got an idea firmly 
lodged in his brain, it remained there, 
and he did not forget the step he had 
taken that evening. “ Matt’s a Christian,” 
he would mutter to himself when he was 
strongly tempted to tease some child or 
worry some helpless animal, “and Matt 
mustn’t be cruel or Jesus won’t love 
him.” 

Many a sacrifice this half-witted boy 
made for the Saviour, of whose infinite 
love and tenderness he had but a dim 
perception, and those in full possession 
of all their faculties might well take a 
lesson from this poor boy. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE INGA THEE ING. 

N ight after night the church was 
crowded to its utmost capacity, and 
none of those who were present at the 
solemn services will ever forget them. 
Many converted sinners could look back 
to those evenings as the birthday of their 
spiritual life, and those who had been Chris- 
tians, in profession, for years, now began 
anew to glorify their Master in their daily 
life. 

For once, salvation seemed to be the 
only theme of thought and conversation, 
and everything else was forgotten while 
men sought the way to Christ. Even the 
most careless and trifling were awed and 
solemnized as they entered the church and 

192 


THE INGATHERING. 


193 


felt the powerful unseen influence of the 
Spirit. Such an outpouring of God’s bless- 
ing had never been witnessed in that town 
before, and the young pastor’s heart was 
full of solemn thanksgiving that the soil 
which had seemed so sterile should yield 
such a bountiful harvest. 

Of the boys, all but Dick had come to 
the Saviour, and Mildred grieved over his 
indifference while she rejoiced over the 
others. How could his heart be touched 
with a sense of the infinite love of Christ? 
All his aspirations seemed to be satisfied 
with his beloved music, and he seemed to 
have no affections beyond his love for 
Mildred. 

The meetings were now drawing to a 
close, and she was more than ever anxious 
that Dick should not pass through them all 
unimpressed, for she feared that if he could 
withstand all these entreaties and appeals 
he would never be reached. 

Very earnestly she prayed, feeling that 

13 


194 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


the matter was in God’s hands alone, and 
that with all her love for Dick she could do 
nothing for him. 

One evening the sermon had been es- 
pecially impressive and practical. The 
theme was, “ Behold, I stand at the door 
and knock and Mr. Lyte, bearing Dick 
in mind, had spoken so simply that the 
youngest child could have comprehended 
his meaning, and none the less earnestly 
because so simply. 

“ How many years has the Saviour been 
standing knocking at the door of your 
hearts ? Ten — fifteen — eighteen — twenty 
years, perhaps even longer than this, has 
the Redeemer been patiently waiting. 
Dare you, will you, reject him any 
longer?” 

Dick seemed to show more feeling than 
Mildred had ever seen him exhibit, and as 
the people bowed their heads in silent* 
prayer her whole heart went into her 
earnest supplication for him, that his heart 


THE INGATHERING, 1 95 

might no longer be closed against his 
Kinor. 

The yoLing girl sitting beside Mildred had 
a rarely sweet voice, and Mildred put an 
open book into her hand, pointing to a 
hymn. The girl understood, and her sweet 
voice broke the silence as she sang with 
exquisite pathos, “ Knocking, knocking ! 
who is there ?” Before she reached the 
last line many a heart had opened its doors 
to admit the Saviour, and among those who 
one after another rose to their feet, impelled 
by an influence they dared no longer to re- 
sist, was Dick. 

The earnest, impassioned appeal in the 
sermon had first touched his heart, and 
then the words of the hymn reached its 
inmost depths as no spoken words could 
have done. The tender melody that suited 
the hymn so perfectly gave the words a 
meaning and reality that they would scarce- 
ly have had for him otherwise, and he 
yielded in joyful surrender. 


196 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

They were all saved now ; not one of 
them was missing in the little circle of boys 
that met the next evening to pray for loved 
ones in their families who were still far 
from the kingdom. 

The same faces, but how changed ! A 
softened, earnest expression had taken the 
place of the hard, defiant one they had 
worn not a year ago, and as Mildred’s 
loving gaze rested upon them she felt that 
if her whole life henceforth should be a 
glad song of thanksgiving to God for his 
many mercies, she could not express half 
her gratitude. 

They had never all been so closely bound 
together as they were now by their love to 
their Saviour, and they resolved to help 
each other in their new path, that no one 
should grow weary or turn back again for 
want of sympathy or help. 

Dick went home so full of his new pur- 
pose that, as Mildred had anticipated, his 
grandmother could not resist his earnest 


THE INGATHERING. 


197 


entreaties that she too would begin this 
new life ; and when he took his scat in 
church the following evening his grand- 
parents sat one on each side of him. It 
had been so many years since they had 
been inside a church that the familiar mes- 
sage came to them with the force and beau- 
ty of a new story, and, though they strove 
not to yield to it, it followed them home 
and lingered In their memories till the next 
evening came with its renewed appeals. 

Half of Mrs. Ellis’s brusqueness and ill- 
temper was assumed as a mask to hide her 
real feelings, and her heart was not as hard 
to reach as Mildred had imagined. Al- ' 
though she concealed her feelings that no 
one might guess how deeply she was moved, 
each night she found it harder and harder 
to resist the impulse which made her long 
to surrender all of self ; and her husband 
had already resolved that if he waited for 
her in vain until the last night of the meet- 
ings, he would rise alone and begin the 


IqS the boys of RIVERTON. 

Christian life with Dick. He was a gentle 
old man, who had never taken any step 
without his wife’s full concurrence and di- 
rection, and this resolve cost him a great 
deal of anxious thought. 

It seemed very hard to fix a definite time 
for the discontinuance of these meetings, 
but they had extended now over six weeks, 
and Mr. Lyte feared that if they were pro- 
tracted indefinitely a reaction from the in- 
tense interest would take place ; so he an- 
nounced one .evening that the following 
night the last meeting would be held. 

It was very hard to close them while there 
were yet so many souls out of Christ, but 
Mr. Lyte knew that those ‘who had with- 
stood so many appeals were only becoming 
more hardened, and all who were willing to 
yield would embrace this last opportunity. 

As he addressed his people at the close 
of the last sermon, how he longed for an 
eloquence that should convince them in 
spite of themselves and bend the most 


THE INGATHERING. 


199 


Stubborn will to submission ! But the 
treasure of the gospel is committed to 
earthen vessels, so he could only plead 
with them as a man to his fellow-men. 
Yet he pleaded most earnestly and ten- 
derly, beseeching all who had not yet 
yielded themselves to Christ to do so that 
night, before the special services closed, 
and thus be reconciled to God. 

As the congregation bowed in silent prayer 
a sweet voice sang tenderly “ Almost Per- 
suaded,” and here and there in the audience 
rose those who had now been not almost, but 
fully, persuaded to choose the better part. 

Mr. Ellis rose slowly to his feet, his sil- 
vered head bowed humbly as he realized 
what a brief remnant of his years was left 
for the Master’s service, and ere the con- 
cluding line of the hymn was sung his wife 
also yielded to the promptings of her heart 
and no longer withstood the Spirit’s call. 

Many a united family bowed that night 
around a newly set up family altar in joy- 


200 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


ful thanksgiving, and surely the angels sang 
for joy over the lost which were found again. 

A day of new life had dawned for the 
church, so long cold and lifeless, and none 
rejoiced over it more than did the young 
pastor who had toiled so patiently and pray- 
erfully for three long years without seeing 
any result from his labors. In God’s own 
time the field had grown white to the har- 
vest, and it had been a bountiful one. 

On a Sabbath morning a few weeks 
later these new soldiers took the oath of 
allegiance to their King and enlisted under 
his banner. A glorious sight it was when 
fifty souls, young and old, in the flush of 
youth and crowned with the snows of age, 
professed their love to their Saviour and 
met about his table in sweet communion. 

Who can tell what the full blessing to the 
world may be when such a benediction from 
Heaven falls on any spot of earth? None 
can know what may be the final outcome 
of any one of the young lives that morning 


THE INGATHERING. 


201 


consecrated to Christ. The salvation of 
one soul, any soul, is a glorious work, stu- 
pendous enough to make joy in heaven in 
the presence of the angels of God. It 
means an eternity of blessedness for a life 
instead of an eternity of woe. But to this 
we must add also the influence of the re- 
deemed life in this world and through all 
eternity. Each of these saved and conse- 
crated ones goes out to touch other lives, 
to carry benedictions to homes and house- 
holds and to scatter good everywhere. What 
may be the full and final results of all this 
work none but God himself can foresee. 

God’s angels must have hovered with 
loving joy over the place where, that holy 
Sabbath, these young disciples confessed 
their love for Christ and sat down to re- 
ceive their first communion. Jesus himself 
must have rejoiced as he saw of the travail 
of his soul and was satisfied. 


CHAPTER XV. 


FRANK'S DEPARTURE. 

O you know what first made me be- 



lieve that there was something real 
in religion ?” asked Mrs. Ellis one day, 
when Mildred had stopped to see her for 
a few minutes, as was her wont when she 
found herself in that neighborhood. “Well, 
I’ll tell you, for I think you ought to know. 
Maybe it will be a comfort to you to think 
that your kindness was not thrown away, 
though it must have seemed so at the time. 
Do you remember that day I was sick and 
you came here to see me ?” 

Mildred nodded assent. She remem- 
bered the day well. 

“ You were very kind to me that day. I 
haven’t forgotten all the things you did for 
me, and, though I didn’t say anything about 


202 


FRANKS S DEPARTURE. 


203 


it nor let you know that I cared, I tell you 
it all went to my heart. I knew there was 
no reason why you should trouble yourself 
to do so much to make me comfortable. I 
wasn’t no friend of yours, I had been ugly 
to you, and there wasn’t anything about me 
to make you care whether I lived or died ; 
and yet you was as good to me as if you 
was my sister. It struck me then that 
your religion must mean a great deal to 
you if it would make you so good to a 
cross old woman whom nobody else cared 
about. That was partly why I wouldn’t go 
to church and why I was so rough to you 
when you asked me to go. I had always 
made up my mind that I wouldn’t be re- 
ligious, for it looked to me as if most of 
the people who made out to be were only 
hypocrites, and left their religion behind 
them when they came out of church. I 
know now I oughtn’t to have judged them 
so hard, for, though I know I am trying 
hard myself to do right, I am all the time 


204 


THE BOYS OF FIVE ETON. 


going back into my old ways. Still, when 
I watched you and saw that your religion 
made you do so many things for other 
people that I knew nothing else would 
have made you do, I knew there was 
something powerful in it, and I was afraid 
to go near a church, for fear I should have 
to give in, and you see I didn’t want to. I 
thought I’d rather go on in my bad ways 
and not try to be anything better. The 
more I wanted to go, the more I held 
myself away, but after Dick got at me I 
couldn’t hold out no longer. His mother 
was a good woman, though she never got 
no help or encouragement from me, and 
when she died her only thought was that 
Dick should be brought up right ; so when 
the boy began to beg me to come to church 
with him and learn to love Jesus, it just 
seemed like my girl’s voice speaking to 
me, and I couldn’t resist him. I wonder 
at myself now,. how I could have held out 
so long, when I knew I was doing wrong ; 


FRANKS S DEPARTURE. 


205 


but it’s all peace with me at last. And it’s 
your doing too, Mrs. Lyte, if you care to 
know that you helped a poor old woman 
like me, for nobody but you could have 
made Dick what he is.” 

So her deed of self-sacrifice done for 
Christ’s sake had not been done in vain, 
and Mildred was made happy by this 
knowledge. Just now it seemed to her 
that the seed she had been sowing in fear 
and trembling during the past year had 
sprung up and brought forth fruit an hun- 
dred-fold. God had crowned her efforts to 
work for him with his blessing, and she felt 
encouraged to undertake new labor for 
him. 

Not an anxiety or care darkened her 
horizon at this time. The boys were 
steadily going forward in their Christian 
life, and were improving in every way as 
they realized that it was their duty to make 
the best use of their talents:. Mildred’s 
long- cherished plans for them could now 


206 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


be put into execution, and the time which 
she had hitherto given to Frank alone was 
shared by most of the other boys, who felt 
that knowledge extended their usefulness. 

Twice a week they gathered together in 
their prayer-meeting, and these hours were 
the happiest of Mildred’s life, when she 
heard their voices mingling in praise or 
telling what God had done for their souls. 

And they were none the less genuine 
boys because they were Christian boys. 
They were just as full of fun and enjoyed 
good times just as much, but they did not 
find their pleasure in wrong-doing. 

Frank Harris was very anxious to find 
better employment than he could obtain in 
the factory in which he had irregularly 
worked. Mildred was reluctant to part 
with the boy, but she had to acknowledge 
that there was no other opening for him in 
Riverton ; so she wrote to a friend in the 
city and ask-ed him to interest himself in 
Frank’s behalf. 


FRANK'S DEPARTURE. 


207 


Thanks to her teaching, Frank could 
write a good round hand and read intelli- 
gently. He had made up for the time he 
had lost before he realized the need of edu- 
cation. Sooner than Mildred had antici- 
pated, her friend secured a position for the 
lad in a large dry-goods store, where, if he 
proved faithful and willing, he would be 
promoted to a more responsible position as 
soon as he was ready for it. The wages 
were sufficient to pay his board and allow 
him to lay by a small sum weekly toward 
buying clothes ; and Frank was delighted 
when he heard of it. It was hard for him 
to leave his home, with all the associations 
that were now gathering about it, but a 
natural boyish delight at taking his place 
in the world and becoming self-supporting 
more than counterbalanced his regret. 

Mildred had no fears that he would not 
succeed in his new undertaking. She felt 
that a boy had scarcely ever started out in 
life better equipped with weapons with 


208 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON, 


which to resist temptation. Faithfulness 
to duty is the great element of success in 
business, and faithfulness was Frank’s 
strongest characteristic. He could be de- 
pended upon to do whatever he was told 
to do, and his fidelity was as marked in 
small things as in great. 

His face was bright with hope as he 
started away one morning with his slender 
wardrobe in the bag he carried, and if a 
cloud of natural regret marred its bright- 
ness for a moment, it soon passed away. 
Mildred’s thoughts were often with him 
that day, and she hoped that his influence 
among his new associates might be as pow- 
erful for good as it had been at home 
among his boyish companions. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

NEW WOEN. 

HE willing heart can always discover 



-L some service to be done for the Mas- 
ter; and just as Mildred had begun to long 
for some new work in which she might not 
only engage herself, but also enlist the boys’ 
sympathies and aid, she found a new path 
of usefulness opening before her feet. She 
thought she must have been blind not to 
have noticed it before when at last her eyes 
were opened to it. 

Riverton was at the entrance to a canal, 
and during the busy seasons a large floating 
population went backward and forward, 
sometimes tarrying for a day, but oftener 
only for a few hours. Early in April some 
necessary repairs were being made upon 
the church and manse, and Mr. and Mrs. 

14 209 


210 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


Lyte took up their abode for a few weeks 
at a pleasant old house that fronted on the 
canal. They had not been in their new 
home many days before an event occurred 
which opened Mildred’s eyes to the work 
that was waiting to be done. 

It was a clear, bright day, a typical spring 
day, with a sky as blue as the wide river 
over which it bent so lovingly, and the fleecy 
clouds that drifted across it looked like re- 
flections of the white sails that dotted the 
river here and there. The canal was a 
miniature copy of the broad river as it 
wound its way through the country, widen- 
ing out here and there until it resembled a 
mountain-lake, then returning to its narrow 
confines. The towpath that ran beside it 
made a rich bit of coloring in the pictur- 
esque landscape with its exquisitely shaded 
tints of soft brown, and the young grass 
that bordered it was already fresh and 
green, though it was early in the month. 

Mildred paused as she entered the gate 


WORK. 


2II 


on her return from an errand which she 
had gladly made an excuse for a long coun- 
try walk, and drew a little sigh of content 
as she lingered to breathe in afresh the 
perfect restful beauty of the spring day. 
It was hard to believe that there could be 
aught of misery or suffering among hu- 
manity when all nature seemed to revel in 
sunlight and song. 

Reluctantly, Mildred entered the house 
and left the outdoor sunshine, but when 
she seated herself at her sewing she car- 
ried her work-basket beside the open win- 
dow to catch the glimmer of the sunlight 
upon the canal, which lay but a little dis- 
tance from the door. 

Some barges had just entered the canal, 
and were tied up along the banks to await 
the arrival of the steam- tug which was to 
tow them to the other end of the canal. 
Some were laden almost down to the 
water s edge, while the empty ones tow- 
ered up like floating houses. Most of 


212 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


these barges were the homes of families, 
and Mildred often watched the women in 
these boats as they passed through the 
canal, doing the family washing or per- 
forming other household duties on the 
decks, wholly indifferent to observation. 

One of these barges seemed isolated 
from the others, and was tied up just in 
front of Mildred’s door. A man with his 
wife and little son seemed to constitute 
alike the family and the crew on this boat. 
After the barge had been made secure the 
boy settled himself on the coil of ropes 
with a paper he seemed to be much in- 
terested in reading. 

I wonder what he is reading ?” thought 
Mildred ; and suddenly there flashed into 
her remembrance a package of illustrated 
papers that she had put by with the in- 
tention of giving them away when she 
should find a suitable opportunity. 

She laid aside her work and looked over 
the papers, picking out those which she 



A New Door Opened 


Page 213. 



















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JVF.PV WORK, 


213 


thought would be most interesting to a 
boy of fourteen. Then she added to the 
pile a pretty picture-card with a Bible 
verse on it, in the hope that it might per- 
haps, on account of its attractive coloring,^ 
be hung on the cabin-walls and prove a 
word in season to some heart. 

The boy glanced up from his reading as 
he heard her footsteps approaching, and, 
coming to the edge of the barge, looked 
down at Mildred inquiringly. 

“I have brought you some papers to 
read,” said Mildred ; and the boy’s face 
lighted up with a bright smile as she ex- 
tended the package toward him. 

“ ril have to come down the ladder ; it’s 
too high for you to reach,” he answered ; 
and in another moment he had descended 
the light ladder that leaned against the side ' 
of the barge and stood at Mildred’s side. 

“Are you fond of reading?” Mildred 
asked as he eagerly grasped the papers. 

“ I am that,” he answered heartily, “ and 


214 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


I don’t often get hold of much except news- 
papers and the like. Fm much obliged for 
them.” 

“ Poor little fellow !” thought Mildred as 
she retraced her steps to the house, and 
from her seat at the window saw the boy 
examining his treasures with a radiant 
face. “ I am glad I thought of giving 
them to him, for he seems so pleased 
with them. I must save some more of 
them and give them to him when the 
barge comes back.” 

Presently the boy discovered the card, 
and rushed down into the cabin that he 
might find a sympathizer in his happi- 
ness. 

Mildred presently became interested in 
her work, and had forgotten her neighbors 
on the barge when her attention was re- 
called to it by the sound of voices issuing 
from the open door of the cabin, engaged 
in an angry dispute. 

The man soon emerged, and, shouting 


WORK. 


215 


back a rough answer to the volley of re- 
monstrances that seemed to pursue him, 
descended the ladder and made his way 
down the street. His wife stood upon 
the deck of the barge until he was out 
of hearing, abusing him vigorously ; then, 
throwing herself down on the roof of the 
cabin, she burst into a perfect passion of 
sobs and tears. 

The boy tried to comfort his mother, but 
she did not seem to heed him ; rising to 
her feet, she walked rapidly backward and 
forward, like a caged tigress, pouring out a 
stream of imprecations and oaths that ter- 
rified Mildred. The language seemed to 
her too vile as well as too profane to come 
from a woman’s lips, and instinctively she 
rose and closed the window, that the tran- 
quil air might not come to her laden with 
such sounds. 

Even the closed window could not en- 
tirely shut out the foul words, and, instead 
of exhausting herself by giving way to her 


2i6 


THE BOYS OF FIVE ETON. 


passion, the woman only lashed herself to 
greater fury. 

The boy was apparently used to such 
outbursts, for after saying a few words and 
finding them disregarded, he went quietly 
back to his reading. 

Mildred’s heart was full of pity for him. 
Could any good be reasonably expected 
from a child with such a mother? She 
wished that she could remove him at once 
from the corrupting influence and give him 
a chance to grow up to good and useful 
manhood. 

At last the woman went down into the 
cabin and brought up a small tin pail. 
Giving this to the boy, she bade him to 
go and get it filled with rum, and make 
haste and return ; then, after seeing him 
lay aside his paper and start on his errand, 
she went down stairs again. 

A thought came to Mildred — an unwel- 
come thought at first, and she strove to 
drive it away from her. She was the 


N£IV WORK. 


217 


King’s servant. Had she not a message 
to this poor soul? 

“I could not go over to that boat and 
speak to her,” cried Mildred, utterly aghast 
at the thought ; “ she is too utterly bad to 
be helped by a few words and she tried 
to put the thought away. — “ She is one of 
those whom Jesus died to save,” whispered 
Mildred’s better self. “ Perhaps the mes- 
sage of salvation has never been brought to 
her personally before. If the pure and sin- 
less Saviour did not shrink from sinners, 
shall one of his disciples do so?” 

Still she hesitated. Perhaps this woman 
had been sent here beneath her very win- 
dow that she might carry to her a message 
of the Father’s love. Dared she withhold 
the message ? 

With an earnest prayer for help ascend- 
ing from her heart, Mildred crossed the 
road and mounted the little ladder that led 
to the deck of the barge. She was afraid 
of this violent, passionate woman, who 


2I8 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


might do her some injury if she incurred 
her anger, and then there was the effort to 
make to speak of the things that lay near- 
est to her heart. 

Mildred knocked timidly at the cabin- 
door. 

Come in,” answered the woman ; and 
Mildred opened the door and descended 
the little stairway that brought her into the 
tiny cabin which served alike for kitchen 
and for living-room. 

The woman did not seem to be at all 
surprised at her visitor, as Mildred had 
thought she would be. 

“ Sit down,” she said brusquely, but not 
unkindly, offering her a chair. “ Excuse 
the looks of the cabin,” she began ; then 
broke off abruptly in her apology : “ No, I 
won’t ask you to excuse it, either, for it’s 
the best I can keep it, and as good as any 
one could, for the matter of that.” 

“ I am sure it does not need any apol- 
ogy,” said Mildred pleasantly as she glanced 


ATE IV WORK. 


219 


around the little room, which was really 
beautifully neat. 

The woman’s voice was still harsh and 
strident with anger, and Mildred’s heart 
beat fast with nervousness. 

“You don’t know what living in one of 
these boats is until you have tried it,” went 
on the woman. 

“ Do you like it?” asked Mildred. 

“Like it?” echoed the woman bitterly. 
“No; I hate it. I prayed my husband 
night and day to leave me on shore, but he 
wouldn’t though it’s killing me. I am dying 
of consumption, without a soul to pity me 
or care for me.” 

“You look ill,” said Mildred sympa- 
thetically. 

The woman’s looks verified her words, 
for she was pale and emaciated from ill- 
ness, her eyes were sunken and hollow, 
and a racking cough interrupted her every 
few minutes. Her anger had brought a 
bright flush to her cheek, which only added 


220 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


to her frail appearance, for it seemed to 
mock the glow of health. 

“ Do you see that little bed in there ?” 
she asked, pointing through a low opening 
at the end of the cabin. 

Mildred stooped down and saw a small 
gloomy room, into which the outside light 
and air could not enter,, with two beds in it. 
It was a few moments before she could dis- 
tinguish their outlines, the room was so 
dark. 

“ I’ve laid in there for a week at a time 
often and often,” went on the woman, “with- 
out a soul to do a thing for me but my little 
Eddie, for my husband wouldn’t lift his fin- 
ger to help me if I was dying. I lay there 
and cough night after night, but nobody 
cares — nobody cares. If I only had my 
Annie now, it would be so different.” 

“Is Annie your daughter?” asked Mil- 
dred gently, forgetting her dislike in her 
great pity for this desolate woman. 

“Yes, she was my daughter, my only 


NEIV WORK. 


221 


daughter,” answered the woman ; and the 
harsh tones softened and into the fierce 
bright eyes came a mist of tears. “ She 
died two years ago, and such a death ! It 
makes me wild to think of it. She was 
burned to death, and I could not save her ! 
Oh, my Annie ! People say I haven’t been 
right in my head since, and maybe I haven’t. 
I see her before me day and night, and I 
know I shall never stop thinking about her. 
Right after that I lost my baby, and now I 
have only this one left out of all my chil- 
dren. — Oh, Annie ! Annie !” and, throwing 
her apron over her head, she rocked her- 
self backward and forward in an abandon- 
ment of grief. 

Tears of sympathy stood in Mildred’s 
eyes as she sought to comfort the sorrow- 
ing mother. The bright path of sunlight 
that crept through the half-open door of 
the cabin and fell athwart the floor only 
seemed to mock the loneliness and sorrow 
within. 


222 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


With a swift-winged prayer for wisdom 
to guide her words aright she took the 
hard, toil-roughened hand in her own 
friendly clasp, and as lovingly as one sis- 
ter might plead with another she whispered 
her message, hoping that it might find an 
entrance into the heart which was softened 
for a time at the remembrance of her sor- 
row. 

“That’s very well for you,” bitterly an- 
swered the woman. “You have everything 
to make you happy, and you can spend all 
your time thinking about such things if you 
want to ; but if you were in my place, sick 
and miserable, with no one to care whether 
you lived or died, and a selfish, lazy brute 
of a husband, who beat and cruelly abused 
you, then it would be different. You would 
not care much about the Lord or anything 
else then.” 

“ I should want him all the more,” earn- 
estly answered Mildred, wishing that she 
knew how to plead her cause so well that 


JVEIV WORK. 


223 


it should find a permanent resting-place in 
this poor heart. 

Quick boyish footsteps sounded on the 
deck above them, and the boy called, 

“ The tug’s coming, mother, and I didn’t 
have time to get that for you. Father said 
I must hurry back and take in the ropes, 
ready to start.” 

“I must go, then,” said Mildred, rising. 
“ Will you not sometimes think about what 
I have been saying?” 

“ I shall think about it quite as often as 
you will think about me,” bitterly answered 
the woman, the hard, defiant look coming 
back into her face. 

“I shall think of you and pray for you 
every day,” earnestly answered Mildred. 
“Until I hear that you have found this dear 
Friend I shall pray that he may make you 
feel your need of him and fill your heart 
with his joy and peace. Good-bye.” 

“ Mildred !” exclaimed a surprised voice 
as she rather fearfully began to descend 


224 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


the rickety ladder; and a strong arm en- 
circled her and placed her safely on the 
ground. “ My dear girl, what have you 
been doing there ?” exclaimed her husband 
in surprise. 

“I have been carrying a message,” she 
answered ; and as they entered the house 
that was so bright with the sunshine of love 
her heart ached for the poor woman she had 
just left, whose life seemed so desolate and 
loveless. She told her husband the sad 
story she had heard. 

“I do not wonder that she seems so 
hardened and defiant,” she ended, “when 
she has no sympathy nor care. Horace, 
this seems to me like the beginning of a 
story; I wonder if I shall ever hear the end 
of it?” 

Days rolled away into weeks, and the 
weeks became months, but the barge did 
not return through the canal, though Mil- 
dred daily watched for it, and after she re- 
turned to her home made frequent inquiry 


NEIV WORK. 


225 


for it. She was greatly interested in the 
woman whose troubles had touched her 
heart, and as she bore her in the arms of 
faith before the throne of grace she won- 
dered whether her prayers might not al- 
ready have been answered. 

15 


CHAPTER XVII. 


POLL Y. 



HE barge had been moved into posi- 


X tion and had taken its place in the long 
line of boats that were to be towed, almost 
before Polly Matthews had realized that she 
had said Good-bye to her new friend. Pol- 
ly was unusually quiet and thoughtful, pon- 
dering over the strange words she had just 
heard. 

“’Minds me of the way I used to hear 
my mother talk afore she died,” the woman 
said to herself as she wondered why that 
stranger had taken the trouble to come to 
her. “ I don’t suppose she really cares, 
though,” she said to herself. “She talked 
about praying for me, but she don’t know 
what a hard case I am. I’ll soon enough 
be forgotten.” 


226 


POLL Y. 


227 


His wife’s silence puzzled John Matthews 
not a little, for she generally met him with 
a storm of invectives when he had been 
drinking. 

“ What’s up ? Are you sulking in there, 
Poll ?” he called out, leaning forward as he 
stood at the helm till he could look down 
into the little cabin. 

The sharp retort with which the woman 
answered him drove all softened feelings 
away, and the husband and wife indulged 
in one of the bitter quarrels which were 
unhappily of only too frequent occur- 
rence. 

“ God’s seed shall come to God’s har- 
vest.” Scarcely more unfruitful soil in 
its outward seeming could have been 
found anywhere, but slowly and surely 
the good seed was taking root. 

The barge was laid aside some weeks 
for repairs when at last it reached its des- 
tination, but Polly was too ill to care about 
the pleasure of being on shore, as she had 


228 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


expected. The sure disease had almost 
run its course, and she realized herself 
that the end was drawing near. The 
racking cough exhausted her slight store 
of strength more easily, and she could 
scarcely drag herself about long enough 
to go through the daily routine of work 
that was absolutely necessary. 

“ Nobody cares,” she said bitterly to her- 
self ; and then her eyes would wander with 
strange persistency to the words on the 
little brightly-tinted card : “ He Careth 
for You.” 

“ No, he doesn’t care — nobody cares,” 
she would tell herself, but Mildred’s an- 
swer to these same words would return 
to her: “If you would only let him help 
you bear your burdens, you would find 
how much he cared.” 

Her suffering was not softening her ; on 
the contrary, she grew more irritable each 
day, and exhausted herself in fits of pas- 
sion. The women on the other barges 


POLL Y. 


229 


near them would have shown her some 
kindness and sympathy, but her fierce, de- 
fiant manner repelled them, and the friend- 
ship she might have had she cut off from 
herself. 

One day when her husband and son had 
both gone ashore she was lying in the dark 
inner cabin, her eyes resting on the little 
card, that was lighted up by a sunbeam 
that fell across it. 

“ ‘ He Careth,’ ” she repeated. “ I won- 
der if he does ? I wish I knew. That 
lady said it was easy to go to him, but how 
can I when I don’t know the way? I ain’t 
got nobody to show me, neither. What 
shall I do ? I’m afraid to die, and I know 
I can’t last much longer. O God, have 
mercy on me !” and the first prayer of 
her prayerless life forced itself from her 
lips. 

She felt a strange yearning to know 
somewhat of that peace and rest that 
Mildred had told her about, and she won- 


230 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


dered how she could find the way of sal- 
vation. 

Polly had had opportunities in the past, 
but she had spurned them all, and now 
she feared that death would overtake her 
before she had become reconciled with 
God. 

Footsteps resounded on the deck above 
her head and descended the cabin-steps. 
Raising herself on her elbow, Polly saw 
a stranger in the cabin, and in feeble 
tones she inquired, 

“ What’s wanted ?” 

“ I have been making calls on the neigh- 
boring boats, and hearing of your illness I 
came in to see you. Will you let me have 
a little conversation with you upon the sub- 
ject of religion ?” 

The colporteur went straight to his er- 
rand at once, and as Polly listened to his 
kind voice she knew that a friend had been 
sent to her who would tell her the story she 
most longed to hear. 


POLL K 


231 


The good man was used to meeting re- 
pulses and rough refusals to listen to the 
message he sought to carry, but here he 
found that the soil was prepared and wait- 
ing for the sower. Polly eagerly welcomed 
him, and in the intervals of the racking 
cough that wellnigh exhausted her feeble 
strength she told him in broken sentences 
of her sinful life in the past, and of her de- 
sire to turn even at this eleventh hour to 
the Saviour. 

As simply as possible the colporteur told 
the dying woman the story of the Cross, 
and she listened eagerly, drinking in every 
word with feverish anxiety. 

“ Are you sure ?” she gasped. ** Are you 
sure he died for me too, wicked as I have 
been ? Isn’t it too late for me to come to 
him ? Surely he will cast me off now, when 
I have neglected him all my life and she 
moaned aloud in her despair. 

“We have his own promise that he will 
save even to the uttermost,” was the com- 


232 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


forting answer. “ ‘ Him that cometh to me 
I will in no wise cast out.’ ” 

“Tell him that I want to come. Pray for 
me,” entreated Polly ; and, kneeling down 
beside the pallet, the colporteur uplifted an 
earnest petition in behalf of the dying 
woman. 

Surely the way was made very easy to 
her, sinful and weak as she was, and even 
before the prayer was concluded a great 
sur^inof wave of new emotions and feelino-s 
rushed over her, and she became a new 
creature in Christ Jesus. 

The look of peace that overspread her 
emaciated features spoke of her new-found 
joy, and the colporteur rejoiced that his 
steps had been so directed that he had 
come to Polly in time to lead her to the 
Saviour she was so anxious to seek. 

Long he lingered beside her, and she 
forgot her sufferings and lost all the fear of 
approaching death, which had haunted her, 
in the joy of knowing that her sins were 


POLL Y. 


233 


forgiven. When at last the colporteur took 
his departure it was with a promise of soon 
calling again ; and he left with her some 
tracts and leaflets that he thought would be 
of use to her. 

Polly had not known that when she went 
into the bedroom to obtain a little rest she 
would never leave it again, but so it proved. 
She was too weak to attempt her usual 
work, and toward noon a kindly neighbor 
came in at the boy’s request to see his 
mother and perform a few friendly offices 
for her. She was astonished at the gentle, 
submissive manner which had taken the 
place of Polly’s well-known surly defiance, 
and she was still more amazed when Polly 
told her of her new feelings. 

John Matthews was so astonished at the 
change in his wife that he forgot to make 
his usual threats of what he would do to 
the minister who dared come on board his 
barge, and he went about his work in a 
state of utter bewilderment. 


234 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


Very gently and peacefully the end came 
to the dying woman, and her only regret 
was that so much of her time had been 
misspent, and that only at the eleventh 
hour she had come to her Saviour. With 
a child-like trust she accepted and believed 
in the promise of pardon, and she pleaded 
with all who came in contact with her, until 
the hardest hearts were moved and affected 
by her manifest love for the Master. 

Nothing could have been more convin- 
cing to those who listened to her words 
than the change which had been wrought 
in her. They knew it was not alone the 
fear of approaching death which had so mar- 
velously softened and subdued her, and 
they wondered whether this could indeed 
be the Polly Matthews whose violent out- 
breaks of passion and terrible volleys of 
imprecations had sometimes made even the 
rough bargemen blush for her. She was 
indeed washed and made clean in the blood 
of the Lamb. 


POLL K 


235 


It is such miracles of grace as this that 
are the best evidences of Christianity. We 
read the story of the gospel, and sometimes 
we wish that we could have again the won- 
ders of physical healing which were wrought 
in those days by the word or touch of the 
Lord. But do we not see greater wonders 
in the works of divine grace performed in 
our very midst when depraved souls are 
changed into gentle children of God? 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


CANAL-LIFE. 



HIS glimpse into the life on the barges 


JL opened Mildred’s eyes to the fact that 
a wide field of labor was lying uncultivated. 
Every Sunday the canal was full of barges 
and schooners for nearly half a mile from 
the locks, and none of the families living on 
these boats ever attended church. They 
spent Sunday in visiting from vessel to 
vessel or in doing the week’s washing, and 
as they laughed and talked together many 
an oath or coarse jest polluted the quiet 
Sabbath air. 

Where to begin the work was the ques- 
tion. As soon as Mildred spoke of the 
matter to the boys, they were eager to be- 
gin to help at once. Whenever she had 
offered any papers to the people on the 


236 


CANAL-LIFE. 


237 


boats they had invariably been gladly re- 
ceived, so that was one way in which good 
seed could be sown. 

Mildred made inquiry among those fam- 
ilies in the place that took religious papers, 
and found that in most cases no use was 
made of them after they had been read. 
These papers were willingly promised to 
her when she explained what use she 
wanted to make of them in distributing 
them among the boats on the canal, and 
the boys appointed a committee from their 
number to call weekly and collect all the 
papers that had been read. The children 
in the Sunday-school were asked to return 
their illustrated papers after they had been 
read, and thus the little ones on the canal- 
boats were gladdened by the papers that 
answered their purpose just as well as if 
they had not been already perused. 

These papers were then divided into 
packages. A leaflet and an illustrated 
text, with a loop by which it could read- 


238 THE BOYS OF FI FEB TO AT. 

ily be hung up, were added to the papers, 
and the boys took turns in going among 
the boats every Sunday morning and giv- 
ing each a package. 

Cordial invitations to come to church 
were also extended, but infrequently ac- 
cepted. It was only when the boys went 
just at church-time and offered their serv- 
ices as guides that they could induce any 
one to accompany them. 

The church was at too great a distance 
from the canal to be readily seen, and none 
cared to make the effort to find it*. 

“ If we could only bring the church down 
to the canal, I am sure ever so many would 
come,” said one of the boys to Mildred. 
“ But they always have so many excuses 
for not coming, even when they say that 
they will. They say they don’t know the 
way and don’t like to go to a strange 
church alone, and some of them have 
never been to church and don’t want to 
go. It’s just discouraging, Mrs. Lyte.” 


CAN/IL-LIFE, 239 

“ I know it is/' answered Mildred. “ But 
we must just do all we can, and then 
leave the rest with God. It is his work, 
you know, and we are trying to do it for 
him, so he can bless our feeble efforts and 
use them, even though to us they seem 
very weak." 

“ I wish we could have some kind of a 
meeting down near the canal," persisted 
Fred. “ Then they wouldn't have any 
excuse for not coming, and maybe the 
sound of the music would draw them. 
There isn't any place we could have, 
though, is there?" 

Mildred thought for a few moments, then 
her face grew bright. 

“ Fred, I think I know of the very place," 
she said eagerly. “ Do you suppose we 
could fix up the old mill, so that meetings 
could be held there?" 

“ I should think we could," answered the 
enthusiastic boy. “ It's awful tumbledown 
and rickety on the outside, but that will not 


240 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


matter if we can make it clean and nice 
inside.” 

“ I will go down and look at it to-day,” 
said Mildred, “and then I will tell you 
about it this evening. If we can only 
use it I think our chief difficulty will be 
conquered.” 

That afternoon Mr. Lyte procured the 
key of the old mill from its owner, and, 
telling him for what purpose he hoped to 
make it available, he received a cordial 
invitation to make all the use he could 
of it. 

It was very discouraging at first, for it 
hardly seemed safe to use it; but after 
their eyes had become a little used to the 
heavy coat of dust and the long festoons 
of cobwebs, they saw that matters were 
really not half so bad as they looked. If 
the floor were thoroughly cleaned and the 
walls relieved of their burdens of accu- 
mulated dust, it would be a tolerably pre- 
sentable room, unfinished and rough of 


CANAL-LIFE. 


241 


course, but still available. There was 
much to be done before it could be used, 
but Mildred knew that the army of willing 
workers that were only awaiting the word 
of command would make short work of all 
the necessary changes. 

Mildred’s only fear was that her hus- 
band’s strength would give out under the 
extra burden of an additional service on 
Sunday, when his time was already nearly 
occupied with the two regular services, 
Sunday-school and a young men’s prayer- 
meeting. 

He assured her that he felt quite equal 
to this additional burden, and so they de- 
cided that as soon as the mill was put in 
order a short service should be held 
there every Sunday afternoon at four 
o’clock. 

There was to be plenty of singing by a 
choir gathered from the Sunday-school, 
and when it was practicable Mr. Lyte 
determined to deepen any impressions 
16 


242 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


that might have been made by a short 
after-meeting. 

The boys went eagerly to work, really 
enjoying the difficulties that the task pre- 
sented. In a few days the dingy room 
would hardly have been recognized. 
The walls had been thoroughly cleaned, 
and illuminated texts of Scripture neatly 
framed relieved the monotony of the bare 
boards. 

Each of the boys had contributed one 
of these texts as his gift to the new 
enterprise, and Mildred was touched as 
she read them and saw that they had 
selected texts which had proved helpful 
to themselves in the past, and which they 
no doubt hoped would be precious to some 
other souls. 

The seats were rough benches made of 
boards, for it was out of the question to 
think of purchasing seats, and the sing- 
ing-books were the only necessary ex- 
pense involved. 


CANAL- LIFE. 


243 


The boys readily collected funds suffi- 
cient for the books, and as the organ in 
the reading-room was small and light, they 
agreed to transport it to the mill every Sat- 
urday, to be used for the service, and then 
carry it back again on Monday. 

A placard announcing that a short ser- 
vice would be held there at four o’clock 
every Sunday afternoon was hung upon 
the door, and in less than a week from 
the time the project was proposed all 
was ready. 

The next Sunday an unusually large 
number of boats were laid up in the 
canal, much to the boys’ delight, for they 
felt assured of an audience when they 
saw the long lines of boats. They went 
from boat to boat just before the ap- 
pointed hour, urging every* one to come, 
and offering to watch the boats when the 
men gave fear of thieves as an excuse for 
not coming. 

When Mr. Lyte entered the door at four 


244 


THE BOYS OF FI FEE TON. 


o’clock he was surprised as well as pleased 
to see what an audience the boys had man- 
aged to collect. He would not have been 
disappointed if only half the number had 
been present, but there were at least fifty 
men and women, whose sunburned faces 
and rough clothing showed that they lived 
upon the water. 

Quite a number were assembled outside 
of the door, drawn there partly by curiosity 
and partly by an interest which was not 
strong enough to induce them to enter. 
Heavy faces, without a spark of intelli- 
gence, were those into which Mr. Lyte 
looked as he announced the opening hymn, 
but they lighted up with pleasure as the 
sweet young voices took up the words of 
a familiar hymn, and before the second re- 
frain had been reached more than one 
voice from the audience tried to join in 
the spirited singing. 

A short, earnest prayer followed ; then 
a chapter was read. Another hymn was 


CANAL-LIFE. 245 

given out, and after its last notes had died 
away Mr. Lyte made a short, earnest ad- 
dress, taking for his subject the Prodigal 
Son. 

He had taken especial pains in the» 
preparation of the address to make it as 
simple, vivid and attractive as possible, and 
he held the attention of his hearers. The 
men at the door removed their caps and 
softly tiptoed in and seated themselves by 
the door, that they might not lose a word. 

A motley audience it was, and one that 
might never be gathered together again ; 
another day would see those boats scat- 
tered miles apart, and perhaps not one of 
the men might ever come within sound of 
Mr. Lyte’s voice again. 

Every word must tell, then, and Mr. 
Lyte’s tones were tremulous with earnest- 
ness as he realized that this might be his 
only opportunity. 

“ I will arise and go to my father.” He 
entreated them to make the prodigal’s re- 


246 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

solve their own, and realize the love and 
forgiveness of their heavenly Father. For 
the first time in their lives many of the men 
heard the story of their Father’s love, and 
to some others it brought back tender as- 
sociations of innocent childhood and stories 
they had learned at a mother’s side. 

Mr. Lyte could see that his earnest plead- 
ing was not without effect, and in his clos- 
ing prayer his fervent petition was that the 
seed sown should not die, but should spring 
up to bear abundant fruit. As. soon as the 
service had closed he stepped forward and 
greeted as many of his audience as possi- 
ble with a cordial clasp of the hand. 

“ It’s the first time I’ve heard that story 
since I was a boy,” said one man to him 
as he took his hand, “and it’s done me 
good. I’ve been in a far country many a 
year now, and I’m wellnigh tired of the 
husks. It’s about time I was going back to 
my Father, and y ur words will stay by me> 
for I ain’t heard anything of the kind for a 


CANAL-LIFE. 


247 


long time. God bless you !” and the rough 
man’s face worked with emotion as he has- 
tily turned away before Mr. Lyte could en- 
courage him in his new resolution. 

Those were not the only words that made 
him feel that his afternoon’s work had not 
been all in vain. One and another uttered 
some word of encouragement or expressed 
a desire for something better than they had 
hitherto known, and Mr. Lyte felt that the 
reward was well worth the extra exertion. 

The boys were jubilant over the success 
of their work, and they had much to report 
concerning the papers that had been dis- 
tributed. In no case had they been re- 
pulsed, but the papers had been gladly 
welcomed, and upon many a cabin-wall 
hung a text that in time would whisper a 
comforting message to some heart. 


CHAPTER XIX 


FRANK^S PROGRESS. 


‘RANK HARRIS entered upon his 



A new duties with all the energy of his 
energetic nature. At first he was so tired 
by the time his day’s work was over that he 
had no time for any feeling of home-sick- 
ness to overcome him, and he was glad to 
forget his weariness in sleep. 

After a few days he became more accus- 
tomed to his duties, and soon made friends 
among his companions by his bright, cheer- 
ful ways and his fund of unfailing good- 
humor. 

While he was always willing to yield his 
own pleasure to any one else’s gratification, 
the boys soon learned that in matters of 
right and wrong he was as inflexible as a 
rock, and they learned to respect him for 


248 


FRANK'S PROGRESS. 


249 


his adherence to his principles. He wielded 
a strong influence in a quiet way, and his 
influence was all the greater because he was 
popular among his associates, and they had 
learned that, though he was a Christian, he 
was none the less a genuine boy, enjoying 
his times of recreation as heartily as any 
of them. 

“ His religion don’t spoil good times for 
him,” said one of the boys one day. 

“ No, and any of the good times it keeps 
him out of he is better off without,” an- 
swered another, whose aching head was 
making him pay for a “ good time ” he had 
enjoyed the evening before with a party of 
dissipated companions. 

Frank had been warmly commended by 
Mr. Lyte to the care of his new pastor, and 
he soon began to feel at home in the church, 
and took his place in the Sunday-school 
and young men’s prayer-meeting. 

He never held back froiti anything that 
he believed to be his duty from any feeling 


250 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


of shyness, and he soon grew to be de- 
pended upon as one who would always take 
any part that was assigned to him, and per- 
form it faithfully and well. 

/ As the months rolled slowly away and 
his employers began to appreciate the fidel- 
ity to their interests that was too rare to 
pass unnoticed, he was promoted to a 
higher position. His salary was also in- 
creased, much to his gratification, for now 
he was able to help the younger ones at 
home'. 

Twice he had obtained leave of absence 
and had come home for a short visit, and 
Mildred had been delighted with his mani- 
fest improvement in every way. 

He began to appreciate the advantages 
of education more than he had ever done 
before, and he devoted every spare mo- 
ment in the evenings to study. A new 
purpose had taken shape in his mind, and, 
though he hardly dared put it in words even 
to himself, yet it gave him a persistence 


FRANK^S PROGRESS. 


251 


and perseverance that kept him steadily 
at work at his task of self improvement. 

The next time he went home he called 
to see Mr. Lyte, and was shown up into 
the study. 

“Well, Frank, I am glad to see you,” 
said Mr. Lyte cordially, thinking to him- 
self how manly and self-possessed the 
boy had grown during his bri-ef sojourn 
in the city. “ Mrs. Lyte tells me you 
have something to consult me about. I 
suppose she knows what it is, but she 
hasn’t told me.” 

“ No, sir, I have not said anything to her 
about it yet. I want to ask your opinion 
first, and if you think I am too presump- 
tuous and advise me against it, I would 
rather no one knew it. I hardly dare let 
myself think of it, for I know how un- 
worthy I am to fill the place, and there- 
fore it seems almost wrong for me to 
aspire to it.” 

“Well, tell me what this weighty matter 


252 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON, 


is, Frank, and I will try and advise you as 
wisely as I can,” answered Mr. Lyte, en- 
couragingly. 

Frank hesitated a moment, and his face 
flushed as Mr. Lyte looked inquiringly at 
him and sat quietly waiting for the boy to 
unburden his mind. 

“ I want to be a minister,” said Frank, at 
last conquering his hesitation and speaking, 
though in an embarrassed tone. 

“ Why, Frank, you surprise me !” ex- 
claimed Mr. Lyte. “You know it takes 
years of study and preparation, my dear 
boy. Have you taken all that into con- 
sideration, or is this a new idea? It is a 
noble desire, but have you thought of the 
matter long and fully enough to know all 
the difficulties and the cost?” 

“ I have been thinking of it for a long 
time — for nearly a year,” answered Frank. 
“ I knew any one must know a great deal, 
so I have studied hard every evening, and 
I thought perhaps I could learn enough in 


FRANK^S PROGRESS. 


253 


time. I know I am not very quick at 
learning, but I love to study now, and 
I am not quite seventeen, so I thought 
that by the time I am old enough I 
might have a pretty good education.” 

“Why do you want to be a minister, 
Frank?” asked Mr. Lyte. “Perhaps if 
you remain where you are and work your 
way up steadily, you may be taken into the 
firm some time and become a rich man. 
Wouldn’t you like that better? Have you 
thought of that? Would you not rather 
be a rich business-man than a poor min- 
ister?” 

Frank shook his head. 

“No, sir,” he answered decidedly. “If 
I could have my choice of being anybody 
in the world, I would choose being a min- 
ister. I think it’s just the grandest thing 
in the world to spend one’s whole life in 
trying to bring others to Christ. I say all 
that I can to the boys, for I know there is 
a good deal that people who are not min- 


254 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


isters can do, but I would like to have 
nothing else to do but just tell people 
how good the Lord is. If I could only 
go down into the poor parts of the city 
and preach to the people there, where 
they don’t know anything about him, I 
should be very happy. I would rather 
do this than be the richest man in the 
city.” 

The boy’s face glowed with eagerness 
as he spoke, and Mr. Lyte saw that he 
was sincerely in earnest. 

“ I think you have the right feeling about 
the blessedness of a life consecrated to the 
Master’s service,” he answered kindly, 
“and I hope the way will be opened for 
you to carry out your purpose. You 
have years of preparation before you 
which will require much patience and 
hard study. I do not tell you this to 
discourage you, but because I think you 
ought to know all that is before you. I 
would not want to see you begin to pre- 


FRANK'S PROGRESS. 


255 


pare for the ministry, and then get discour- 
aged and give it up. It would discourage 
you for all life. You had better see all the 
difficulties in advance and not begin at all, 
than begin and fail. So I want you to 
know all now. It takes time and hard 
work to prepare.” 

“An education takes a great deal of 
money, too,” answered Frank, “ and I have 
not that, as you know. My idea was that 
perhaps you would be kind enough to tell 
me some of the books I ought to study, and 
I could study in the evenings, and then I 
could lay aside a little from my earnings to 
support me after a while, when I could give 
all my time to study. Then if I should find 
that I could not learn enough to make a 
minister, I would not have lost my time and 
need not be dependent on my father for 
support.” 

“That will be a very good plan,” an- 
swered Mr. Lyte cordially. “Now, I will 
see how far you are advanced, and then I 


256 THE BOYS OF B I FEE TON. 

shall be better able to tell you what to 
study.” 

The boy underwent a close examination, 
and Mr. Lyte was surprised to see how 
thorough his knowledge was of what he 
had studied, and how rapid had been his 
progress. 

He lent Frank some books from his own 
library, and gave him a list of others that it 
would be desirable for him to study, and 
dismissed him, well satisfied with the result 
of the interview. 

“I could hardly believe that it was- the 
same boy who could not read or write two 
years ago,” Mr. Lyte said to Mildred after 
the boy’s departure. “ He is about as well 
informed on most subjects as any boy who 
has always attended school. His progress 
is simply marvelous when his opportunities 
are taken into consideration. He must 
learn very readily, or it would have been 
simply impossible for him to accomplish all 
that he has.” 


FRANK^S PROGRESS. 


257 


“ Do you really think it will be possible 
for him to fit himself for a minister?” 
queried Mildred. 

‘‘ His heart seems to be full of it,” an- 
swered Mr. Lyte, “and if his energy and 
perseverance only hold out, I do not see 
any reason why he should not give his life 
to this work. This next year will be a fair 
test of his endurance, however. If he per- 
severes through the course of study I have 
marked out for him, we may conclude that 
his purpose is unalterable.” 

17 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE HARVEST GARNERED. 

HE services in the mill were held 



X regularly every Sunday afternoon, 
and they constantly increased in interest 
and attendance. The singing attracted 
many who were fond of music, and then 
some word would sink into their hearts that 
would take root and in the course of time 
spring up and bear fruit. 

It was indeed “ casting bread upon the 
waters,” for no one might estimate the har- 
vest that should spring from the seed scat- 
tered prayerfully and hopefully by a heart 
full of love for the Master. 

Mildred had not forgotten her interview 
with Polly Matthews, and she often thought 
of her and longed to know whether her 
earnest prayers had been answered. 


268 


THE HARVEST GARNERED. 259 

Late in the fall a barge passed through 
the canal and stopped in front of the house 
that Mildred had made her home for a tim^e. 

A woman got off, and after scrutinizing 
the house carefully for a few moments, she 
walked up to it and rang the bell. 

“ Are you the lady that lived here last 
April ?” she asked, apparently not satis- 
fied that she had found the person she 
was in search of. 

“No, the minister and his wife lived here 
then,” was the answer. “ Did you want to 
see them ?” 

“ I don’t know, but I guess so,” answered 
the woman. “ There was a barge laid up 
here last April, and the lady that lived in 
this house went aboard and talked to the 
woman. That’s the lady I want to see ; I 
have a message for her.” 

“Then it must be Mrs. Lyte you want 
to see,” answered Mrs. Campbell. “I will 
let my little boy go with you and show you 
where she lives.” 


26 o 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


The offer was gladly accepted, and a few 
moments later a rough, weather-beaten 
woman, tightly clasping a soiled enve- 
lope in her hand, was seated in Mildred’s 
parlor waiting for her return from a short 
walk. 

“Are you the lady that went aboard a 
barge that lay in the canal here last 
spring?” asked the woman, rising to her 
feet as Mildred entered the room. Then 
without waiting for an answer she went 
on: “Yes, I know you must be, for you 
look just like Polly said that that lady 
looked. I have brought you a message 
from her.” 

“ I am so glad,” exclaimed Mildred, “ for 
I have thought of her so often, and longed 
to hear from her.” 

The woman opened the envelope and 
drew out the little illuminated card that 
months ago Mildred had put among the 
papers she gave to the boy on the 
barge. 


THE HARVEST GARNERED. 26 1 

“ She told me to bring you this, for she 
wanted you to have it and to know how 
much good it did her/' 

Tearfully the woman told the story of 
Polly's last days, and of her new-found 
faith and love. 

“You would never have known her, she 
was that changed," she said. “She used 
to be such a hard case that, though we’re 
rough enough ourselves, we didn't care to 
have naught to do with her. John Mat- 
thews wasn't a good man nor a good hus- 
band, neither, but she made him worse 
with her awful tongue. It would have 
frightened you to hear her go on when 
her temper got up, and the sicker she got 
the worse her tantrums was. We was 
often sorry for her, she looked so sick 
and miserable, but if we said a word to 
her she would fly at us, so we were afraid 
to say any more. The change seemed to 
come all at once. One morning one of 
those good men that go around with Bibles 


262 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


and tracts went to see her, and he seemed 
to make the way plain to her, for she had 
been thinking about beginning a new life. 
Her little Eddie came in about dinner-time 
and asked me wouldn’t I come in and see 
his mother, she was so sick he was afeard 
she was dying. The minute I set eyes 
on her face I noticed the difference, and 
her first words were as soft and gentle as 
any one’s could be. I wish you could have 
seen her then ; you wouldn’t have known 
her for the same woman. It was a pleas- 
ure to do anything for her, she was so 
patient and sweet, and, though every 
word gave her a spell of coughing, she 
never lost a chance of begging any one 
to love the Lord and go to him for for- 
giveness. You couldn’t refuse her, she 
was that earnest; and even John Mat- 
thews couldn’t harden himself against her. 
We can’t none of us be like we was afore 
she died. She looked as peaceful and 
happy as if she was a little tired baby 


THE HARVEST GARNERED. 263 

going to sleep when at last the end came. 
I was sitting by her, holding her hand, 
when she opened her eyes and smiled at 
her husband and little Eddie ; then she 
says, very soft like, ‘For he careth — he 
careth;’ and that was the last she ever 
said.” 

The woman broke down entirely, and, 
hiding her face in a corner of her shawl, 
she sobbed aloud. 

Mildred held the little soiled card in her 
hands, and through the mist of tears that 
blurred her vision she read the simple 
touching words that God had so richly 
blessed in their errand to the hardened, 
desolate woman. A rich harvest truly 
from that hour’s work, from the few 
words so tremblingly spoken for the 
Master on that April day; and Mildred 
realized as she had never done before 
that God’s word shall not return unto 
him void. The little card would be a 
precious reminder and encouragement to 


264 THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 

her in the future if she should ever grow 
weary in her work. 

She had indeed much cause for encour- 
agement in all that she had undertaken 
during the past year. The boys were 
helping each other onward in the new path 
in which they had started together, and the 
bond of Christian love held them together 
by stronger ties than any mere friendship 
could have done. The church itself was 
the better and richer for this infusion of 
vigorous young life. I would not say that 
they always walked triumphantly, that they 
never yielded to temptation, for they were 
very real, human boys, although they were 
Christian boys, and oftentimes they stumbled 
and fell when temptation assailed them ; but 
they grew stronger by defeat, and learned 
that they must guard best the places where 
temptation could most easily assail them. 
They were not remarkable boys in any 
sense, and they all were engaged in prac- 
tical, commonplace avocations ; but a good 


THE HARVEST GARNERED. 265 

carpenter or a good fisherman has his al- 
lotted work to do for the Master just as 
truly as a minister has, and I trust no one 
will lose interest in the boys because they 
did not become anything brilliant or extra- 
ordinary. 

Dick Nelson is the nearest approach to 
a genius. He has charge of the church 
music, and his dull face and uncouth man- 
ner are forgotten as his fingers draw rare 
harmonies from the yellow keys of the old 
organ. His talent is consecrated to God’s 
use, and he rejoices that he can offer it to 
his King. 

The literary society seems weekly to in- 
crease in interest as the boys’ fund of in- 
formation increases. 

Mr. Lyte rejoices in the knowledge that 
none of those long, dreary pauses which so 
effectually paralyze the struggling life of a 
prayer-meeting will ever occur again in his 
church, for, while the boys do not push 
themselves forward, a glance from their 


266 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


pastor will prompt an earnest boyish 
prayer, a passage of Scripture or it may 
be simply a suggested hymn. They all 
have a warm affection for their pastor, and 
no criticism or captious comment will ever 
fall from their lips; and their affection is 
fully returned. Seldom is it that such mu- 
tual regard exists between a pastor and the 
young men of his charge. 

As for Mildred, the yearning love which 
first prompted her to seek out the boys 
when they were uncared for has only in- 
creased and strengthened as the days have 
gone by. Memory often carries her back to 
that never-to-be-forgotten evening when she 
first met the boys, and was so fearful lest she 
should fail in her plan for their salvation. 

The corner of the vineyard she had un- 
dertaken to till for the Master had indeed 
been a sterile one in outward seeming, but 
could labor have been more amply repaid ? 
All saved! Not one astray in paths of sin, 
but all gathered into the fold. 


THE HARVEST GARNERED. 267 

She had mourned that Charlie Percival 
had missed the special services which she 
thought would surely have had a strong and 
lasting influence upon the impulsive boy. 
Not long after they had drawn to a close 
she received a characteristic letter from 
Charlie, which assured her that all was 
well with him. 

“ I have something to tell you that I know 
you will be glad to hear, dear Mrs. Lyte,’' 
the letter ran. “ I am so glad to be able to 
tell you that I trust that I am indeed a Chris- 
tian. I could not forget your last words to 
me nor Mr. Lyte’s earnest prayer for me. 
I tried again and again to put them out of 
my mind, but I could not, and one night in 
church it just came over me like a great 
wave how wicked I was to hold out against 
such feelings, and so I gave up all to Christ. 
I am so happy now ! Pray for me that I 
may be always faithful to my new Master.’' 

It did indeed gladden Mildred’s heart, 
for she knew that unless the boy took a 


268 


THE BOYS OF FI FEB TON. 


decided stand for the right with God’s help 
to sustain him, he would be easily led away 
into wrong-doing. 

Frank fulfilled Mr. Lyte’s opinion of his 
perseverance and earnestness of purpose. 
Without neglecting his employers’ interests 
he used every available moment to fit him- 
self for his life-work, and his progress, un- 
aided save by suggestions from Mr. Lyte, 
during the next year was so rapid and gave 
such proofs of the boy’s natural ability, as 
well as his studiousness, that a gentleman 
became sufficiently interested in him to offer 
to defray his expenses while he studied for 
the ministry. 

It is not the great things alone that tell 
in the largest results in God’s kingdom. 
Many people let their talents lie in useless- 
ness and have nothing in the end to show 
for the life they have lived, because they 
could not do great and conspicuous things, 
and supposed nothing else worth the doing. 
They had only a few little seeds in their 


THE HARVEST GARNERED. 269 

hands, and thinking that surely no beautiful 
harvest could come from these, they have 
not scattered them, and so they have done 
nothing to brighten and bless the world, 
and will stand at last with empty bosom, 
bearing no ripened sheaves. They had only 
one little talent, and that seemed so small 
in comparison with the greater endowments 
of others about them, that they thought it 
no use to try to make anything of it or 
do anything with it, and therefore wrap- 
ped it up and laid it away, and so have 
lived without high purpose, and left the 
world little if any better for their passing 
through it. 

Is it not time we all learned that if the 
world is ever to be regenerated, it must be 
by the ministry of people of common gifts, 
people with small talents, and by the little, in- 
conspicuous, unheralded services of Christ’s 
disciples in the world’s quiet corners and in 
out-of-the-way places ? Mildred’s quiet yet 
noble work for her Master in the village and 


270 


THE BOYS OF RIVERTON. 


neighborhood where her lot was cast touched 
scores of lives and blessed home after home. 
Then the work is not done. Who can tell 
what may be the outcome of the lives which 
through her influence have been led to 
Christ and consecrated to his service? To 
have led one of the boys of Riverton into 
the kingdom of Christ may have been a 
greater deed for the world, and may meas- 
ure more in eternity, when the results of 
earthly service are gathered up, than many 
a great and conspicuous work which all 
men praise. 

The harvest that springs from seed sown 
for the Master can never be rightly meas- 
ured in this world. Our garners may 
overflow with it, but even then we do not 
know of all. We must sow in faith and 
love, remembering that “ God’s seed shall 
surely come to God’s harvest.” 









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